


Sanctuary

by MystyVander



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adventure, Alchemy, Alternate Universe, Dark Magic, Drama, Horcrux Hunting, M/M, Post-Hogwarts, Romance, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-10-16
Packaged: 2018-02-06 22:33:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 68,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1874895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MystyVander/pseuds/MystyVander
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is a stormy night when Draco Malfoy seeks the assistance of none other than Harry Potter. On the brink of beginning a horcrux hunt, what is he supposed to do when his old rival comes seeking sanctuary? What is he supposed to do when that supposed enemy comes forward saying that the prophecy was wrong and it was truly the Dark Lord who has power that the Order knows not? It turns out the Order has been looking in all the wrong places and Draco Malfoy is going to help Harry look in the right ones...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Anything you recognize is not mine. It is J.K Rowling's or (in later chapters) H.P Lovecraft's. 
> 
> Warning: This is SLASH, eventually. 
> 
> A huge thank you to Michy - my wonderful Beta who is only on FanFiction.net but is doing this story for me! I owe her lots, she's fantastic and we've only just begun!  
> I do hope you all enjoy, I will try my hardest to keep the updates coming along quickly. Enjoy!

  
Harry loved the rain.

Everything about it, he enjoyed. The sound it made against the window panes, the after-smell it created in the air, the way it could change from ferocious to light in a split second, or gather just in one small area. He felt safe when it rained. Unlike any other weather, he could astutely hear every single passer-by; the soles of their shoes almost resonated against the small puddles on the pavement, the grass made uneasy, squashing noises beneath their feet.

Yes, Harry knew that whenever it rained, he would be having a good evening. Nobody rightfully flew a broom in the rain. The wards around not only the Dursley's residence, but all of Privet Drive, made it impossible to Apparate in or Disapparate out of there. Henceforth, he appreciated the rain even more. He was able to leave the house, undaunted by fleeting thoughts of any ill that could befall him. Rain meant the ability to be alone, away from his cousin, away from that wretched house where he spent all of his time locked up in his room. Hedwig, however, hated the rain. She would remain cooped up, hooting softly in protest when Harry would leave her to enjoy his time alone, not caring about the drenched state of his clothing, walking about the dark, empty streets of Privet Drive.

His hands were in his pockets, his face slightly up turned towards the falling droplets, as he let them splash across his features. Rain was like a never ending shower. He never understood why everybody else seemed to despise it so much. His worries, his pelting inward questions, his constant plotting, all washed away with the rain. Even if it were only for a few moments, it was a blissful few moments of peace. He wished briefly he could be enjoying the rain in the fields by the Burrow, or even on the doorstep of the Headquarters at the Noble House of Black. He knew he couldn't, but soon... soon he could join his friends, as soon as he had been at the Dursleys' long enough for the blood magic that tied him there every summer to be fulfilled. It was his seventeenth birthday in two weeks' time. He counted every second as a step closer to freedom. A step closer to the hunt.

A yawn escaped him, and he reluctantly began his slow waddle home, dragging his feet as he did. As much as he despised his time at the Dursleys', he still acknowledged it as the place where he grew up. Distant and vague memories found him before him shoved them back away. His mind had more important matters to tend to...

...like why there was a strange, familiar boy standing in Aunt Petunia's garden, soaked from head-to-toe in not just rain, but also what appeared to be blood and sweat.

"Potter! For Merlin's sake, there you are! I have been looking for you all night and those damned, disgusting Muggles were of the most useless sort!"

Harry was frozen to his spot on the Dursleys' driveway. His teeth barred, his skin crawled, his fists clenched, with one hand gripping the wand within his trousers. This couldn't be happening. This certainly couldn't be happening. Not here, not now, not him, not ever. He drew his wand, pointing it, unshaking, in the Slytherin's direction. "Give me one good reason not to turn you over to the Ministry this minute, Malfoy!" he snapped, his voice laced with venom.

Malfoy, despite the weariness that was overcoming his cold body, drew a smirk directed at the end of Harry's wand. He rolled up his dirtied, stained crimson sleeve of his left arm, revealing skin torn to shreds; superficial wounds, but deep enough for there to hardly be a trace of a Dark Mark left. "Do you think I wanted to come here, Potter? I need your help."

Just as Harry started to wrap his head around the wounded arm he saw before him, and the words of the other boy, in the distance, the sound of wailing sirens began to draw nearer. Harry gaped. "Malfoy, what did you do to them?" He gestured towards the house. Finally finding his feet and ability to move once more, he pushed passed the boy and towards his house. He heard shouting from inside.

"Who, the Muggles? Nothing. I merely asked where you were and when they refused to assist me I searched the place and –"

"Bloody hell, you're such an imbecile," Harry muttered darkly. "If I find you have harmed even a hair on their heads, there won't be any of you left to lock away in Azkaban."

The sound of sirens became louder, almost deafening, and the flashing lights were beginning to become visible. Malfoy stared at them in befuddlement. "What is that? Some sort of Muggle parade? Odd, this time of night, in this weather –"

"It's the bleeding police, Malfoy! Probably coming to get you, no doubt, for breaking and entering!"

"Po-lice?" Malfoy spoke the foreign words oddly on his lips.

Harry rolled his eyes exasperatedly. "Muggle Aurors,"

"Are there such thing? Potter, I swear, I will murder you if you let me go to some sort of foul, Muggle prison! I came here asking for sanctuary, please!" Malfoy's voice began to sound panicked.

Harry quickly rounded on him, and without another thought, grabbed him by the collar of his torn shirt and dragged him, with ease, up to the front door of Number Four, slamming him against it.

With narrowed, dark eyes, Harry glared icily at Malfoy, his wand now jabbed into his throat. Malfoy hissed, but he did not react otherwise. He did not push himself off or fight to retrieve his own wand.

"Sanctuary? Sanctuary?!" Harry hissed, "After all you have done, you think you can just come here and ask for sanctuary from me? You must have a death wish! Maybe I should let Mungo's take you instead of the Aurors –"

The sirens were deafening. The lights flashed only a few houses down now, and there were three cop cars, coming to a halting stop. The dark, rainy street was lit up by the commotion.

"Please, Potter! My parents..." Malfoy's voice fell, as he looked down away from Harry's angry, piercing eyes. "...They're dead. You are the only left, the only one I thought could help me. Please," he looked up slowly, his eyes irritated, red, bulging slightly. To Harry's astonishment, Malfoy looked dreadfully sorrowful.

"Give me your wand," Harry demanded. He could hear shouts as doors opened and slammed promptly. Feet sloshed on the pavement, in the grass, drawing nearer.

"What? No way, you are bloody insane if you th-"

"Give me your wand or I won't help,"

Malfoy peered over Harry's shoulder at the oddly dressed men in black, wearing helmets that to him, appeared equestrian in nature. Reluctantly, hissing in pain as he did, he withdrew his wand and placed it into Harry's waiting hand. The brunette levelled one more glare at him before harshly releasing him. Malfoy still used the door as support, his legs threatening to give out. Harry quickly pocketed both of the wands and turned towards the police officers, the lights nearly blinding him, their manic shouting for them to turn around flooding him. Harry sighed and put his hands in the air, stealing another glance over at the mortified, confused and dreary looking blond slumped behind his back.

"Officers, please, I live here, there's been a misunderstanding..." Harry began through gritted teeth. Two of the closest officers used this opportunity. They were reciting rights. Harry grunted as his wrist was suddenly snatched, and he was spun around on the spot, metal cuffs slipping into place. The other officer did the same to Malfoy, who cried out as his own wounded arm was taken, his front slammed into the door now, his face pressed against it.

"Who do you think you are, you filthy Mug-"

"Malfoy! Shut up, I'll handle this!" Harry snapped.

As they were being dragged away, Harry decided that no, he no longer liked the rain. In fact, he despised it.


	2. Conditions

When Draco awoke, it was with a start. Immediately, his eyes burned at the bright lights high overhead. He hissed and tried to sit up, closing his eyes and throwing his arm over his face to shield his vision. All that did was cause further pain to jolt through his wounded arm, now dressed, he noted, as he forced his heavily lidded eyes open.

As he adjusted to the light, he took a few moments to take in his surroundings. The room reminded him, oddly enough, of the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts. Though private and with strange, beeping instruments about, presumably utensils of a medical nature which he had never seen before. He looked on in horror at a tray of sharp, prodding objects. Instinctively, he threw himself away from them, and despite the pain that ached in every joint of his body, he curled up in the corner of his bed. A presence at his door startled him. When he realized who it was, he glared and reached into his trousers, only to find he wasn't wearing any. He grimaced.

"Where the bloody hell am I, Potter? Some sort of Muggle prison? Is this what they do in them, torture you?" Draco snapped, clutching his blanket tightly.

Harry rolled his eyes. "You really are ignorant," he muttered, then placed what seemed to be a styrofoam cup of coffee down on Draco's bedside table and reached into his own trousers. "This what you're looking for?" he asked, flashing the other boy's wand briefly.

Draco's eyes narrowed. "Give it back."

"No can do, Malfoy. You see, if you want my 'sanctuary', as you put it, I get to keep this for as long as I deem necessary. Besides," he continued, pocketing the wand once more and sitting down at the sole chair next to the boy's bed, "They would have thrown it out if they came across it."

" _They_? Who are they? Where am I, Potter?"

"Don't you remember what your little, brilliant idea caused last night?" Harry bit. The blond was merely sneering at him and refusing to stop. Harry reached to the side for his coffee. He took a long sip of it, sighing heavily once he was finished. "What is the last thing you remember?"

Scrunching up his face momentarily, Draco thought aloud, "Those damned Poffish men putting me in the back of one of those dismal machines Muggle's use for transport."

"Police, Malfoy, and they're called cars," Harry groaned. This was probably going to be harder than he had already chalked it up to be. "You passed out, thank Merlin, because who knows what idiotic things you would have said that would have ended us both up in jail. Once I got my Aunt and Uncle –"

"Those Muggles were your –"

"Malfoy!" Harry snapped, in no mood for irritating questions. "Do you want my help or not?"

He waited for the blond to glare at him for a moment before flippantly waving his hand to continue. "Anyway, once they convinced the Officers that I was their nephew, I vouched for your presence. As for your appearance, I had to convince them you were mugged, henceforth confused, which is why you came running into my house like you owned the damn place, because you were scared. That is our story and you will do well to remember it. Officers will be by to get a description of whoever mugged you. Make someone up and make it convincing,"

"If there is one thing Malfoys can do, Potter –"

"It's bullshit their way out of everything, I know," Harry cut him off, receiving another piercing glare; he shook it off. "Now that I see you're not dead, I'm leaving. They won't release you for another few hours. You know where I live," he stood and turned to leave, but stopped at Malfoy's stammering call for him. He turned, and seethed at the boy, "I think I've done quite enough for you! What is it now?"

"You still have yet to tell me where the bloody hell I am, why am I wearing this god awful gown, and can you at least heal me, Potter?!" he yelped, wincing as he threw up his wounded arm in exasperation, then cradled it almost immediately.

Harry narrowed his eyes at the forearm which he knew bore a torn up Dark Mark, and tensed. "I am underage, not to mention rubbish at healing. You are in a hospital, Malfoy,  _obviously_. You're a Pureblood; I didn't think that resulted in chronic stupidity."

And with that, he turned on his heel once more and fled, ignoring the further calls that were made for him. The mere presence of Malfoy had him seething; he couldn't bear the sight of him, recalling memories of Dumbledore's fall. He shook it from his head. He wasn't quite ready to return to Privet Drive, he thought, as he dragged his feet, deciding to wander Little Whinging for the next few hours.

It was close to dinner time when Harry returned to Number Four. He was glad he wasn't bombarded with questions. Fortunately, they wanted as little to do with his world as possible. Though, he knew he was just avoiding the unavoidable. He settled into his small room, petting a cooing Hedwig through her open cage, before taking out a spare bit of parchment, his ink bottle and quill. He dipped the quill, addressed the letter to his friends, then stared down at the page. What could he possibly say to explain this situation? What could he say that would stop them from immediately calling a dozen Aurors and Order members to the house? Just as he thought he had figured out a way to word what he knew he needed to tell them of the events of the prior evening, a loud, shrill voice shrieking from his doorstep.

Vernon was swearing in the living room, and a crash which was undoubtedly caused by Petunia dropping a handful of cutlery came from the kitchen. Harry groaned and pushed himself away from the desk. He was beginning to hate Malfoy more and more by the minute.

"Harry bloody Potter, give me my wand back! Get your –"

Harry exited the front door, glaring daggers at Malfoy, as he closed the distance between them without a word. He grabbed a handful of his torn shirt, soiled from the previous day, and dragged the protesting Slytherin inside Number Four.

"Get that filthy thing out of my house this instant!" Vernon's face was purple and red with shaking rage, as he jabbed his porky finger in Malfoy's direction. Petunia was looking slightly horrified from behind him, while Dudley was sitting in the armchair, mouth agape.

"Oh, you are one to talk, Muggle!"

Vernon sputtered, advancing on him. "I know your kind. I know your _rules_. You can't use anything outside of that blasted school of yours!"

Malfoy, despite his ragged appearance, raised both his eyebrows and seemed to effortlessly channel his father. Harry had released him at this point, rubbing his temples, eyes closed, in disbelief at his situation. Did life really despise him that much?

"Oh? Is that what you think? I will have you know that I, unlike Potter here, am of age. The only thing stopping me from hexing your mouths shut is..." he turned on Harry, glaring, his hand out-stretched. "If you won't help me, Potter, fine. At least give me my wand back. I have a pack of Death Eater's to run from, thank you very much."

Harry bared his teeth, already regretting his words and his decision. "I didn't say I won't help you, Malfoy. Believe me, I shouldn't be, you don't deserve it. But my help comes with conditions. The minute you fail to adhere to any of them...well, who do you think I should hand you over to? The Order or _them_?"

If looks could kill, it would have been a double homicide in the Dursleys' living room.

"What the bloody hell are you on about?! Who do you think you are, Potter? Do you honestly think you can keep... more of your scum in my household?!" Vernon bellowed.

Harry took a deep, staggered breath, before rounding on his Uncle. "I have a right mind to give Malfoy here his wand back, Vernon," he warned, and fear suddenly flashed in all of the Dursleys' eyes. Malfoy found this to be rather amusing, though he couldn't bear looking at the Muggles for more than a few seconds at a time. They seemed simply atrocious in manner.

"He still can't stay," Petunia piped up finally, defiantly sticking her nose in the air.

Rolling his eyes, Harry bargained. "Malfoy here is from – I can't believe I'm about to say this – the most well-off family I have ever met. Ever," he emphasized. "And, as of yesterday, he owns all the assets of the family. He has more Galleo-er, money, than you have ever seen combined in your lifetime, Vernon," Harry explained, then shot another cold look at Malfoy, who was staring at him calculatingly. "I am certain he can make monetary amends for his time spent here."

For a few moments, all occupants of the room were opening and closing their mouths or simply looking between the two wizards. Malfoy was the first to make a sound. His hands came together in a slow, drawn-out clap which he continued, wincing every time his hands made contact, due to the still-fresh wounds which he had dressed on his own before being released. Harry rounded on him, scowling. "Bravo, Potter. How very  _Slytherin_  of you."

Harry ignored his comment and turned back to Vernon. "I have his wand, I will be keeping his wand – shut the bloody hell up, Malfoy – but I need to speak with him."

He turned away from his relatives, who were glaring at him, closely observing Malfoy, who was smirking now, despite the fact that he was being harshly dragged away from the room and up the stairs. He briefly noted the padlocked cupboard under the staircase on his ascent.

Once they were in what Malfoy assumed was Harry's bedroom, to his own astonishment, considering the size of the dwelling, Harry shoved him onto his chair and sat on the edge of his bed.

"So, Potter, what are my conditions then?" he drawled.

"Like I said before, you are lucky I haven't handed you over yet. I still have a half mind that I should..." He sighed. "The conditions are that I keep your wand for as long as I see necessary. Until I can trust you with it, which I don't see happening ever, but still...Secondly, you have to tell me the truth. All of it. The night on the Astronomy Tower, Snape, where you went, what you have been doing since that night, your parents and what the bloody hell happened to bring you here. Don't even consider lying, Malfoy, because…" Harry leaned over for a moment, reached into his desk drawer, and pulled out an oblong looking crystal orb, which he slammed onto the corner of the desk. Malfoy eyed it suspiciously. "This Sneak-o-Scope is like none other. It will tell me when you lie."

Malfoy pursed his lips, looking between the Golden Boy and the orb, before sighing. "You won't need it, Potter. Consider my being here and asking for your sanctuary not just a truce, but an allegiance."

Harry glared at him for a moment, before continuing. Malfoy could say all he wanted, spew whatever truce bullshit from his mouth he wanted to, but there wasn't any way Harry would actually come to trust anything that came from him. "Thirdly," he continued, the venom leaving his voice with every word, "You have to apologize."

"Hah, what for?" he sneered, crossing his arms. Even damaged, Malfoy could still appear like the most self-righteous piece of work Harry had ever laid eyes on.

"For everything you have put them through for the past six years!"

Malfoy's mouth opened for a moment before he scowled.  _"Them_?" he hissed.

Harry leaned backwards on his bed, using his hands to prop him up, smirking triumphantly. "Yes. I don't give a shit about you, Malfoy, so I don't care for your apologies. But the second you see Ron and Hermione, you owe both of them the sincerest fucking apology I have ever heard in my goddamn life. If you can't follow those three rules, Malfoy, well, it looks like we'll be taking a trip to the Ministry."

For a split second, Harry was certain he saw fear flash before Malfoy's eyes, before the other boy became stoic. He looked off to the side at the Sneak-o-Scope again and swore under his breath, "Bollocks."


	3. Hostile Civility

"No."

"You have to, Malfoy."

"No, I most certainly do not have to."

"You do if you ever want to see your wand again."

Cold anger flashed across Malfoy's grey, narrowed eyes, as he stood in the open doorway of Potter's abysmal excuse for a room. He pursed his lips, crossing his arms. "Fine, but you cannot keep my wand from me forever, Potter."

Harry couldn't help himself; he found a smirk slowly crawling up his face as he chuckled lowly, "I most certainly can and I will if I feel it's necessary."

Despite his aching muscles, he quickly crossed the distance between them and peered down at the slightly shorter boy. "With or without a wand, if you try anything, I  _will_ murder you."

The brunette found himself laughing even more now, as he turned to leave. "I'd like to see you try, Ferret," he muttered on his way down the hall.

As soon as he was alone again, Malfoy immediately fell back down to the chair, hissing at the pain that seemed only to be spreading all over his body. For the first few hours after being released from that dismal place Muggles called a hospital, he had felt well enough to get by. But now, by the minute, he was increasingly feeling the effects of his wounds. He looked down at his left arm, frowning at the Muggle dressings that wrapped around it. The doctors had been absolutely amazed and appalled all at once – no stitches would stay, no glue would stick, so the serious yet seemingly superficial cuts would have to heal in their own time. The white bandages were soaking through with a deep brown colouring. He sneered at it, as if he could curse it away.

When Harry reappeared in the room, he had with him several things. In one hand, there was a plate of what appeared to be food, in the other, a glass of water, and tucked underneath his arm, was a large, cloth box. He handed the plate and water to the dishevelled Slytherin, who merely stared at it, his lips pursed. Eventually, he put it aside on the desk. "I do not quite feel up to being poisoned tonight, Potter," he spat after a moment.

Harry rolled his eyes exasperatedly. "Who do you think I am, Malfoy? You?" he hissed, alluding to the other boy's actions of the previous year.

Malfoy turned to regard him coolly, but chose not to respond. Harry shrugged. "You know, I really couldn't give two shits if you eat or not. Now, give me your arm," he demanded, opening up the box he had brought with him, which was full of bandages of all sorts, what looked like simplistic potions in heavily labelled bottles, and a few sharp instruments. Malfoy winced at them, recalling having seen some of those things at that Muggle institution.

Reluctantly, he held out his injured arm.  _'Your actions speak different from your words, Potter_ ,' he thought idly to himself, before being distracted by the searing pain that jolted through him, as the arm was undressed, the soiled bandage tossed to the floor. For a moment, Harry just sat there, examining the wounds, all vertical across the hardly recognizable Dark Mark. Malfoy's skin about the wounds was bruised and had an odd, purplish and green pigment. With as much ease as he could muster, he took out some dry swabs from the first aid kit and began to tenderly clean around the cuts. Malfoy winced and turned away, refusing to let Potter see any more pain on his face than necessary. As Harry cleaned and redressed his wounds, he bit his tongue so hard that it began to bleed in his arid mouth.

Once Harry was finished, he quickly gathered up the things he had soiled, and tossed them into the garbage by the doorway, before settling back down on the bed, and leaning back on his hands again. As he was quietly observing Malfoy, Harry felt something akin to pity. The boy looked barely alive, as if he hadn't eaten in days, which he indeed knew was the case. After what he had just heard, most of which he reluctantly believed despite himself, he couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

After a long few minutes in silence, it seemed they both began to speak at the same time, over top of one another.

"Thank you for –"

"I'm sorry for –"

They looked up at one another, both narrowing their eyes and then Harry cleared his throat, before speaking again. "I'm sorry for your parents, Malfoy."

Malfoy couldn't help it. He laughed. "Hah! You're sorry that my parents are dead? No need to mock me, Pothead."

Harry had to take a deep, shuddering breath to collect himself, as his hands curled into fists around the blanket on his bed. "Really, Malfoy. Again, who do you honestly think I am?"

Clenching his jaw, Malfoy decided it best not to answer again. He knew that Harry wouldn't actually mock him about something like that, that the Golden Boy could never use this situation at somebody else's expense to his own advantage. That was why he had come there with a great confidence that Harry would help him. Because that's what perfect Potter did – he helped the helpless. Malfoy sneered at his own thoughts before absently cradling his wounded arm.

"What now, Potter?"

Glancing down at the watch on his wrist, Harry sighed. "Now we sleep. Tomorrow we talk."

Sleep did sound like an awfully wonderful thing to Draco at that moment, as it had been what seemed like weeks since he'd had any. Looking about the room, he noted that it would be simply impossible to bring another bed in to sleep on; well, at least without magic. "Is there a separate room I can –"

"No," Harry cut him off shortly and stood up from his bed, quickly looking between Malfoy and the floor. After a few moments, he gestured towards his bed. "You take it. I'll sleep on the floor. For now."

Malfoy narrowed his eyes again. "Potter, what are –"

"Take it or leave it, Malfoy. Before I change my mind," he snapped, and left the room, presumably to retrieve blankets and pillows for himself.

As soon as Malfoy was certain he was gone and out of sight, he didn't need to be told again, as he quickly jumped into the bed and found himself immediately crawling beneath the covers. Nothing had ever felt more wonderful in his life after having not felt a bed in nearly two weeks. By the time Harry returned, the blond was fast asleep.

* * *

Harry didn't know what to say. He wasn't sure of how to say it, either. How in the world was he supposed to summarize the sanctuary he was giving to Malfoy to two of the people in this world who despised him the most – nearly as much as he did? He looked away from his blank bit of parchment and towards the slumbering blond; he looked so much different in his sleep. ' _Almost peaceful_ ,' Harry found himself thinking, before sighing and giving up altogether on writing to Ron and Hermione again.

Looking down at his watch, he decided it had been long enough; he really didn't trust leaving Malfoy, sleeping or not, in his room for too long, and he needed to get his mind off things. He began to shake Malfoy awake by his shoulders, gently at first, then a little rougher.

When his eyes snapped open, he sat up in a mere second, looking startled and defensive. Harry frowned. "Always wake up like that, Malfoy?"

"In the house of mine enemy, yes," Malfoy grumbled, as he kicked the blankets off the bed. It felt odd, waking in Harry Potter's bedroom. He shook it off as he swung his legs around and ran his hands through his hair, trying to flatten it.

"Come on then, the shower's down the hall, hurry up," Harry ordered, clicking his tongue. He needed to get outside, perhaps help Aunt Petunia with some gardening. He just needed to be distracted from not only the current situation sitting before him, but also the bigger one being dealt with by his friends.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes. "Merlin, Potter, I've only just woken up!"

"Not a morning person?" he sneered.

"Is anybody? Are you?" he returned, but stood all the same, wincing as he did.

Harry shrugged, turning away from the boy now and towards the door. "Not really a sleep person at all."

Malfoy scoffed at his back until he was out of sight, before he slowly proceeded to the shower down the hall. Before he exited the room, he caught sight of the parchment and wet quill on the desk, addressed to Ron and Hermione but without content. He left it as it was and found the despicable excuse for a bathroom, surprised to see that there was a set of clean, Muggle clothing left out for him with a towel. He couldn't help but smirk at it. "Always the considerate one, Potter."

When he finally joined Harry in the kitchen, there was a plate of food set out for him, and the brunette was already slowly eating his own. Malfoy eyed it for a moment before taking his place, staring idly down at the food. He heard a small snigger and turned to look at Harry who was hanging his head, his fringe covering his eyes, as the sniggering continued. "What is it, Potter?" Malfoy snapped.

Harry's snigger erupted into laughter, and Malfoy could see the smile spreading across his face, with his cheeks slightly reddened. "Potter," he began testily, "What the bloody hell is it?"

Slowly, Harry looked up. He appeared to be almost mirthful as he pointed a shaky finger in Malfoy's direction. The blond peered down at himself to see what was wrong. "You! Draco Malfoy...in Dudley's clothes!" his laughter reached new volumes now as he looked about to keel over, his hand clutched at his stomach.

Malfoy snarled and stood abruptly from the table, glaring down at his old class mate. "I came asking for help, Potter, I wasn't expecting to make myself subject to –"

"No, I know. I'm sorry," Harry stopped laughing, but had to bite back a grin. "It's just something I thought I'd never see. You in Muggle clothing, my cousin's nonetheless," he admitted, his eyes raking over the shirt a little too big for the Slytherin's thin frame and the jeans that hung too low, but an inch too short at the ankles.

"You could have at least given me your clothes, Potter. Do you honestly want to shred me of all dignity, here?" Malfoy accused before slowly sitting back down.

Harry shrugged now and his face became stoic once more, as he forked into his breakfast. "I don't really have much, just whatever they give me, and most of it is Dudley's hand-me-downs," he admitted.

Malfoy's face contorted. "They really hate you, don't they?" he asked.

"No, Malfoy, they hate  _us_ ," he corrected.

"Never could I have imagined that Muggles who knew of our existence would be sickened by it. Blasphemous." He finally took a chance and picked up the utensils for his own meal, giving it one more long look over to convince himself that yes, it was indeed edible.

Harry shot a smirk across the table. "When I first met you, all you did was remind me of them."

Malfoy clenched his jaw. "Do not ever compare me to those wretched Muggles!"

"Just hurry up and eat, Malfoy, I want to actually see the sun sometime today."


	4. Horcrux Insider

Draco was beginning to see it… and he hated himself for it.  _'But this is why you came to him in the first place. He always does what is right in spite of himself. He's always kind, even to those who don't deserve it_.'

It had been four days now. Four whole days since Harry officially welcomed a traitor into Number Four Privet Drive. After Draco's conditions were adhered to, his interrogation complete, and his boundaries set, they both found that the situation itself wasn't as horrible as they were making it out to be. Harry kept them busy with garden work, which Draco absolutely protested against until his boredom finally allowed him to be coaxed him into it. His wounds were healing, slowly but surely; now that he was properly fed and had a place to sleep, he almost felt healthy.

The Dursleys made themselves scarce; even Petunia found as many excuses as possible to be out of the house and as far away as possible. It was on the fourth afternoon that Draco finally approached Harry about something he had been thinking on since he had seen it. "Have you told the Weasel and Granger, yet?"

Immediately, the question caused Harry, who was at the moment pulling weeds from the back garden just below the kitchen window, to tense. Draco was sitting, leaning on the grass behind him. "No," he merely said after a moment.

"Why not?" Draco countered and then smirked. "Ashamed of me, Potter?"

"Who isn't?" Harry snapped and then sighed. "Sorry, just can't think of how to say it."

"Ever think of just telling them the truth?" he suggested.

Harry laughed. "Yeah, like they'll just let that slide. They'd probably have a dozen Aurors over here in a minute."

"Aurors? Haven't you heard, _Harry_ , there aren't many of those left on your side," Malfoy reminded him, stressing his proper name which sounded foreign to both of them.

"Either way, it wouldn't take them long to send somebody to imprison or murder you. I wouldn't be surprised if Ron came to have a go at you himself and with you being wandless and all, it wouldn't be much of a fight."

"Are we not leaving here when your birthday comes? Kind of leaving it close, Potter. What exactly are your plans ten days from now?" He asked, ignoring the comment about Weasley, as they had crossed that bridge more than any other over the past few days.

Harry gave up on the weeds. He picked his last one and threw it into the bucket beside him before standing up and wiping his dirtied hands on his jeans, which caused Malfoy to automatically grimace. "Ten days from now doesn't concern you, Malfoy."

Draco opened and closed his mouth before he stood to hurry and follow Harry back into the house. They ignored his Aunt, who was making lunch in the kitchen, and swept into the living room where Harry fell down on the couch.

"But it does concern me, Potter," he said, as soon as he entered the room, sitting in the chair opposite Harry. "Ten days from now this house is no longer safe. You will be of age, you will not only be free but also unprotected. That means _I_ will be unprotected. Where do you plan on going, what do you plan on doin-"

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Harry yelled suddenly, his face red and fists balled at his sides on the couch. Draco was taken aback by his sudden anger, but didn't let it show as he merely sat and watched him take a few deep breaths before continuing, "I don't know where we're going, what we're doing, what the bloody hell to do with  _you_. All I know is that we have a job to do and ten days from now we really oughta start getting it done."

"You mean the Horcruxes?" Draco returned. Apparently his knowledge of the matter caught Harry off guard, as he looked flabbergasted at his words. Draco smirked before leaning forward in his seat. "Do shut your mouth, Potter, you look like a goldfish."

Harry narrowed his eyes, and hissed, "What do you know about them, Malfoy?"

Draco shrugged and leaned back in his chair again. "Everything. But mostly, I know that they are a complete waste of your time."

" _Excuse me?_ Are you trying to tell me that we can't get the job Dumbledore left us done? He sacrificed his life, as you should know since you were there, so that we could finish what he set out to do!"

"How imbecilic do you honestly think the Dark Lord is?"

In a few quick seconds, Harry had moved from the couch to standing, towering over Draco, the wand retrieved from his pocket jabbed into his neck. The blond merely looked between the length of the wood and up at Harry, raising his eyebrow slightly.

"We know there are Horcruxes. We know there are seven. We know that if we get them all, Voldemort will fall with their destruction," he glowered.

Draco slowly brought his right hand up to flick Harry's wand away from his neck, and the brunette glared at him for a moment longer before lowering it and turning his back, taking a deep, shuddering breath.

"All I'm saying is he didn't become who he is today just by murder and splitting his soul. There's more to it than that. And trust me, you don't want to follow the path of the Horcruxes, you won't like where it leads you," he warned, and Harry was surprised that the words sounded genuinely sincere.

"So if all of this is true, what should we really be focusing on? You swore to it you'd tell me everything, but of course that was a bloody lie –"

"I answered your questions when you asked them. I am not just to remain an open book without privilege of privacy for the entire duration of having to suffer your company. Plus, if I didn't have information to offer you, why would you keep me around?"

Harry turned back towards him, grinding his teeth in order to keep calm, thinking especially of Petunia in the next room, who was most likely already having a conniption due to the conversation he was certain she was eavesdropping on. "Malfoy, don't test me, not now and not ever," he warned.

Draco looked between him and through the open doorway that led to the staircase at the door underneath it. "How about an answer for answer?" He bargained.

After a moment of thought, Harry crossed his arms. "Depends on the question."

"Likewise. What is with that door underneath the staircase? I mean, it is a little odd, is it not? Or do most Muggles just keep their valuables in such a place? Not very fitting for things of importance, now is it?" Draco immediately asked.

There was something about that door that was unnerving him each time he passed it, ever since he had stepped foot in that house. There must be valuables inside, due to the fact that it was locked, but what sorts of things could Muggles even own that were worth that effort? When he turned from the cupboard back to Harry, he could tell the question wasn't one he was keen to answer, as the other boy's shoulders were tensed and his lips were pursed, looking at the locked door itself with an odd, unreadable expression.

"They kept their _least_ valuable thing in there," Harry eventually ground out. "It's where I grew up, till I got my Hogwarts' letter."

Draco's own reaction was immediate and although he couldn't explain it, he was on his feet at once, his eyes darting between Harry and the cupboard with an incredulous look. "Are you trying to tell me that the great Golden Boy, Saviour to the Wizarding World, grew up in a blasted cupboard underneath a Muggle staircase?! The atrocious excuse for a house was one thing, the despicable Muggle relatives were another but – you must be having me on!" he was raising his voice now and when Harry turned to look at him, he was surprised at the disbelief mixed with pity in Draco's eyes.

"Er, yeah, but it doesn't really matter, s'all past and –"

"Did Dumbledore know?" Draco asked quickly. Harry sucked in a breath at the name and slowly nodded causing Draco to throw his hands up and pace around the room in one small circle before facing Harry again, completely slack-jawed. "And you are actually mourning his death after all he has not only personally put you through, but what he knew you were suffering through as a child?"

Harry frowned. "Since when did you care, Malfoy?"

"I don't!" He said a little too quickly. "It is just a little difficult to comprehend," he added.

Harry looked him over for a second. He was glaring at the cupboard oddly, as though he wasn't sure what to make of it. "It's your turn, Malfoy. Tell me what you know about the Horcruxes."

Draco sighed. "It might take a while. You may want some tea... some parchment, too. Trust me when I say you are going to want to get this in writing, Potter."

* * *

It was around two hours later when Harry finally began to wrap his head around all the information he was being given. They were holed up in his room, Hedwig was asleep in her cage, and he had an endless supply of pieces of parchment scrawled with notes on Malfoy's information. His Sneak-o-Scope sat in between them, Malfoy leaning on his elbows laid out on his bed, and it hadn't made a noise the entire conversation, much to Harry's surprise.

"So, let me get this straight. Professor Quirrell was a Horcrux?"

"Technically speaking, yes. Part of Voldemort's soul was tied to him and it perished when he did, when you killed him," Draco explained for what felt to be the fourth time, sounding bored and staring absently up at the ceiling.

"Then there's Riddle's diary, Gaunt's ring and the locket. But we don't actually have the real locket, but you say you know where it is?" Harry asked again, his brows were furrowed as he watched Draco roll his eyes.

"Do you get the Daily Prophet still?"

"Yeah, but what does –"

"Let's see it, then. The latest one," he requested shortly. Harry reached down into one of the drawers of his dresser and pulled from it the latest Daily Prophet which he had received the morning before Malfoy had arrived. He sat himself up on the bed before flipping through the pages, smirking when he came across what he was looking for, and tossed it onto the desk, page open to an article about Dolores Umbridge's return to the Ministry of Magic and another one of her reforms.

"See it? She doesn't exactly go through great lengths to hide it," he scoffed, and returned to his earlier position on the bed.

Harry's eyes went comically wide as he looked down at Umbridge's chest, Salazar Slytherin's locket right in plain sight. "I have to write Hermione and Ron," he said quickly and grabbed the nearest blank bit of parchment.

"Ah, but don't you want to include the other Horcruxes and their locations as well? And do you really think it wise to owl them such delicate information? I mean, if I were a Death Eater –"

"Which you are," Harry mumbled.

"-which I  _was_ ," Malfoy corrected coolly, "I would intercept every white bloody owl in existence. Your little Hedwig isn't safe out there and especially not with what you were just planning to write."

Harry thought about this for a moment and then reluctantly put his quill down and leaned back in his chair, glaring one more time at Umbridge. "And the rest of the Horcruxes? Where are they?"

"Helga Hufflepuff's cup, well, that is actually in my favourite Auntie's vault."

"Bellatrix Lestrange? You've got to be kidding me! How the hell are we supposed to get in there?!" Harry wasn't sure if this information was helping or hurting them; the more he knew, the more overwhelmed and helpless he felt.

Draco found himself grinning. "I am certain that little bookworm girlfriend of yours can figure it out."

"And Ravenclaw's lost Diadem?"

"Well, that one is truly lost. My Father never heard word of it, nor did Snape or any other Death Eaters or I would have known. It's at Hogwarts, but that Castle is anything but small and uncluttered," he drawled. "Then there's Nagini. And it doesn't take a genius to know where she is."

Harry nodded slowly. "Always at Voldemort's side." He was leaning back in his chair now, clicking his tongue and thinking. "It's doable. It'll be hard but...it's doable. Especially if what all you say is true...we can do it. We can get all the Horcruxes and destroy them."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Right, well, you are forgetting that no matter how impossible actually retrieving some of the Horcruxes are, that you are one of them. To destroy it, you have to be killed, yet you're the only one that can kill Voldemort. How exactly do you propose to get around that one?"

Harry shrugged noncommittally. "Doesn't matter. I'll come to that when the rest of them are destroyed."

Slightly unnerved by Harry's sheer acceptance of his own death, Draco studied him from the corner of his eye.  _'Always so willing to sacrifice himself just for the sake of others. Even after the bollocks he has been through his entire life. One cannot say that is not admirable,'_ he thought to himself, a small smile growing in the corner of his lips. "This whole 'destroy the Horcruxes' plan and all, it could work, Potter. You and your little friends, with my help, of course, could actually destroy them all and escape with our lives – except you, obviously. But, I can promise that will not be the end of it. Like I said before, I will say it again – Voldemort would never leave his mortality placed in physical objects," he explained again.

"I just don't understand what you mean by that, Draco, how else could he possibly keep himself immortal?" Harry asked and then after a moment he looked up to find Draco staring at him, like a deer caught in headlights. He realized what he had just said – he called him by his first name. He found a tinge of pink creeping up his neck and onto his cheeks, especially as he was scrutinized by those uncomprehending, curious grey eyes.

After recovering from shock, Draco made to stand up from the bed. "I have my theories,  _Harry._  None of which I can really say much on till I do some proper research," he said, grinning as his emphasized use of the given name, causing Harry to turn an even more delightful shade of red.

"What do you need? Er, for research?" Harry felt nervous now and he wasn't sure why.

 _'Why are you getting so worked up? You just said his name, it's not a sin!'_ he inwardly chastised himself.

Draco shrugged, shoved his hands in his pockets and started towards the door to the room. "Books.  _Obviously_."

"Oh, shove off, Malfoy you know what I mean. What kind of books?" Harry rolled his eyes.

"Mostly historical. Family bloodlines, ancient magical history, potions history and I need a copy of the Eldritch Tales," he explained after a moment. He had had this theory in his head since the moment he was privy to the last conversation he ever heard his father have.

"Wait? The Eldritch Tales? Like, H.P Lovecraft?" Harry asked confusedly. "That's a Muggle author, what's that –" he was cut off by Draco's abrupt laughter.

"Yeah, right. Lovecraft a Muggle!" he chortled, "You get me those and I can do research, I can tell you my theory only when it starts to make sense to me."

Harry thought for a moment. "I'm sure once we meet with Ron and Hermione after my birthday, we'll be able to get our hands on what you need," he paused for a moment and looked between the information he had written all over his desk and Draco, standing idly in the door way. "Er, thanks. For telling me all of that. If it turns out to be true, it'll help us more than anything else has up to this point." He found himself blushing at that. It was the honest truth and he wasn't sure if he could believe everything he was just told, but the logic was there, the evidence backed by the quiet Sneak-o-Scope.

Draco flashed him a fleeting smile before his face fell stoic once again. Harry was surprised he even saw the hint of smile in the first place. "No problem. You agreed to give me sanctuary, Harry, telling you what I know is the least I can do. If you hadn't taken me in then, well," he shrugged and turned to start out the door. "Who knows?"

"Where are you off to, Malfoy? You can't exactly leave the house, you know," Harry warned. He was getting more comfortable with allowing the blond to venture about the house by himself, but usually didn't like leaving him for a more than a few minutes at a time.

Draco looked over his shoulder. "Oh, it's Malfoy again, then?" He smirked as that same shade began to invade Harry's cheeks. "I don't think I can handle much more talking, Harry. I thought maybe I might offer your lovely Aunt some assistance in the kitchen." His smirk grew and turned devilish.

Harry could only imagine what that could entail, but he couldn't help but shake his head and chuckle as he watched Draco leave, muttering "prat" beneath his breath. He turned back to the notes about the Horcruxes and the picture of Dolores Umbridge, sighing heavily as he did. He needed to concentrate on figuring out how to acquire them now and he hoped he could have at least one or two of them worked out by the time he met with Ron and Hermione. It would be difficult, but he knew the sooner they acted, the sooner not only this would all be over, Voldemort dead, and it gave the Death Eaters less time to protect what needed to be protected.

As he mulled over his papers, five minutes hadn't even passed before he heard Petunia's shrill scream resonate all the way up the stairs. Harry couldn't help but grin, as he stood to see just what Malfoy had done to the petrified woman.  _'Maybe having Malfoy around isn't the worst thing that could've happened.'_


	5. Happy Birthday, Harry

As his birthday drew nearer, Harry was gaining confidence in respect to his haphazard plans – all of which desperately needed Hermione's intel – for retrieving the Horcruxes. He was surprised when Draco would sit, listening for hours on end, and actually assist him when he thought things needed to be fixed. He even did something Harry thought could never happen after Dumbledore's death – Draco found a way to give them back the Noble House of Black, Grimmauld Place, and make it safe once more.

Harry was, despite all his early reservations, grateful for all the help he was being given. Really, his only return was keeping Draco with him. It wasn't such a bad bargain and the snotty, former Slytherin was even beginning to grow on him. He had done something Harry had never thought could be accomplished. Draco made his last days at the Dursleys' actually – dare he think it –  _fun_.

"Tomorrow, how will we be getting to Grimmauld Place?" Draco inquired on the eve of Harry's seventeenth birthday.

Harry looked over at the boy as they lounged in the living room, where there was once again not a sign of the Dursleys. He was certain they hadn't even been home for days, probably going to Aunt Marge's or elsewhere ever since Draco pulled one too many stunts for their liking. "We're not going to Grimmauld at all tomorrow."

Draco looked genuinely surprised and then his eyes widened momentarily in realization. "You are not seriously considering attending Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour's wedding on the first, are you? At the Burrow?"

Now it was Harry's turn to be surprised, "How do you know about that, I haven't even mentioned where we're –"

"Harry, everybody knows about it. That is precisely why you can't go," Draco urged.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, I hardly doubt any Death Eaters know where to find the Weasleys' house," he reasoned, more with himself than the other occupant of the room.

The blond leaned forward in his seat, looking intent. "Before the Second War began, Molly Weasley spent her days inviting people over for tea. That included her long lost relatives, most of which are Pure-blooded Death Eaters. They know about the wedding, where and when it is, and have for months. They also gather you are idiotic enough to attend it," he drawled.

"Are you trying to tell me there's been a plan for attack at the Burrow for a while now?" Harry asked slowly and at Draco's pertinent look he frowned. "I've got to get news to them, tell them they can't be there –"

"Remember, you cannot owl them. What was your plan for leaving tomorrow, and I assume it was the Burrow you were to go traipsing off to?"

Harry sighed. "Yeah, though that sounds like rubbish, now. I can still go tomorrow, as all of us have planned, warn them of the attack, explain," he paused for a moment and gestured at Draco before him, "all of this. I reckon it might take some convincing to get Ron and Hermione back in Grimmauld Place, but I say the sooner we're there, the better," he said decidedly.

Draco leaned back in his chair again. It seemed his mere presence was causing Harry to actually begin thinking rationally for once. "Leave that to me. I'll just show Granger exactly what I mean to do. She's a clever witch; I'm rather surprised she hasn't thought of this herself, yet,"

Harry found himself looking across the living room and smiling at Draco. "You're going to gloat about it, aren't you?"

"Of course," Draco smirked, but at the sound of Harry's chuckle, his lips slowly curled into a smile.

* * *

The Bat-Bogey Hex went hurtling towards Draco who stared, wide-eyed at it, unable to move. He was well aware of the Weasleys' hatred for him, but for some reason, had assumed coming along with Harry would constitute a cease fire. Much to everybody in the room's surprise, Harry dove in front of the Bat-Bogey Hex and easily threw up a Protego in response. It bounced off the translucent shield and ricocheted onto a hanging pot in the Burrow's kitchen, where the sound of bats was heard, but soon dissipated.

Harry was staring levelly at Ron, shaking his head with his wand still raised. Draco couldn't help but let the smug smirk rise on his lips, his arms crossed behind the brunette as he savoured the mollified expressions of the couple before them. Nobody moved; they all just seemed to throw non-verbal questions at one another for a moment. Eventually, Draco came up behind Harry and nearly made him jump out of his skin when his hand rested on his shoulder gently. He leaned in towards his ear to whisper, though he spoke loudly enough for the others to hear. "See, I told you I should have my wand back."

Shaking off the hand on his shoulder, Harry lowered his wand and approached Ron with his hands up. "He is not only unarmed, but still injured. He won't try anything, I swear it," he explained, attempting to sound earnest.

Hermione was frowning from behind the redhead. She had yet to make a move and was only observing the three boys. Ron, however, was shaking visibly with holding in his rage. "How can you protect and swear for Malfoy, Harry? Why the bloody hell is he with you in the first place? He helped murder Dumbledore! He's a Death Eater, for Merlin's sake!" He screamed.

As Harry sighed, Draco walked around to stand beside the brunette, rolled up his left sleeve and peeled back the bandages; the wound was still lightly bleeding every once in a while. Hermione gasped and Ron looked at it, confused for a moment, then back at the former Slytherin's stoic features. "I was a Death Eater, Weasel. I came to Harry here seeking sanctuary," he explained lightly, pulling his sleeve back over the healing wounds.

"And you gave it to him?!" Ron yelled, his wand still pointed in Draco's direction.

Harry looked between Hermione and Ron and then sighed. "We both have a lot of explaining to do." He turned to Draco, "'Mione here is fantastic at healing charms, maybe she can have a go at your arm and you could tell her everything you've told me?" He suggested. Hermione nodded slowly in agreement, understanding that Harry was trying to get Ron alone so he could rationally explain their situation to him.

"Come on, Malfoy, Molly's got some spare bandages upstairs and I'll see what kind of balms she has lying around to help," she said slowly, beginning to lead the way from the cramped living room before turning back to Harry and smiling shakily. "It's nice to see you, Harry. Happy birthday." With that, she left, Harry smiling after her.

Once alone, Harry joined Ron on the couch, as the redhead still had his wand gripped tightly within his hand, wringing the length of the wood. "Harry, how can you trust that prat?" Ron asked quietly after a few moments.

Harry stopped. He hadn't really thought he trusted him, but then again, he didn't exactly distrust him anymore, either. "I trust him about as far as I can throw him, which isn't saying much, but it's tons more than I ever did before," Harry admitted and leaned back in the couch, folding his arms across his chest and taking a deep breath. "Let me explain, Ron. Maybe you'll understand once you've heard everything he's told me."

* * *

_Eighteen Hours Earlier_

Harry was becoming more uncertain of himself as the hours passed. Draco was still the same prat he remembered from school, but somehow, he was different. Perhaps it was the oncoming War that matured them to be able to see each other for what they were; children forced into choices neither of them wanted. They didn't need to talk about it anymore, whenever the subject of the Horcruxes or what Draco had went through after his parents were murdered came up in conversation. They would just look knowingly at one another and leave the silence hanging there.

With the way Draco verbally teased the Dursleys, Harry couldn't help but enjoy his company sometimes – he had the gall to do so many things to them that Harry, in his seventeen years of life, had never imagined. Then the strangest thing happened a few days before his birthday. The blond actually, of his own accord, willingly helped Harry throughout the day with little chores here and there. He didn't even voice a word of complaint. When Harry rounded on him, saying that his gestures were strange, Draco merely shrugged and said his wounds were healing and all the sleep was making him feel more useful.

Whatever the odd alliance between them was, Harry didn't mind it any more. His constant presence was no longer bothersome and the information he had provided him with was more than he could have ever asked for. He was actually excited to get back to the Burrow to tell Ron and Hermione they could reclaim Grimmauld Place as their own once again, start from scratch and erase all those welcomed by the Fidelus Charm. All because of Draco's knowledge.

"Have you been up here all this time, tosser?" Draco drawled as he entered Harry's room, softly closing the door behind him.

Harry was startled by his presence and he turned about in his chair at the desk, then looked down at his watch. It was eleven o'clock, an hour before he officially became of age. "Yeah, just thinking about tomorrow..." he trailed off.

Draco sat opposite him on the bed and smiled reassuringly, but then allowed his mask to fall back in place as he changed the subject. "That tele-thingy is fantastic. Must be the best thing Muggles have ever invented."

Harry grinned at him as he shook his head. "Lots of Muggles think so, too." They sat quietly regarding one another before Harry furrowed his brow and asked, "Draco, do you hate me?"

The Slytherin was taken aback by the question, such an odd thing to be wondering. He leaned back on his bed and raised an eyebrow. "Falling in love, Potter?" He teased, grinning at the red tinge that coloured Harry's cheeks. He always enjoyed watching him writhe in any way. "Honestly though, no. Never quite did. I do believe I was mistaking envy, pity and frustration for hate. But you, Harry, you  _loathed_  me," he said, not as a question but more as a statement.

Harry was still blushing as he looked down at his hands in his lap, pushing back his cuticles distractedly with his nails. "I did. I really did, Draco. You were a git, the biggest one I had ever met. But...I can see why you were. Doesn't mean I forgive you for treating my friends like garbage, they never deserved any of it and they still deserve an apology. I guess all I really want to say is that I don't hate you any more, in case you thought I did," Harry mumbled.

Draco was grinning again as he reached out with one of his hands and let it rest upon Harry's knee, startling the brunette for a second time. "I know. That is why I came here, Harry. I knew you of all other people would understand, you always do, that's why you are such a bloody Gryffindor," he smirked, his hand still lingering on Harry's knee.

It was peculiar. Harry found strange warmth emanating from the hand on his joint and he looked across from it to Draco's pointed, grinning features displaying a completely foreign look Harry couldn't quite determine in his eyes. Without thought, Harry's own hand fell down on the Draco's. Now it was Draco's turn to be surprised, but he hid it well beneath his quickly collected, unmovable mask.

"You know," Harry began, a small smirk growing on his face, "I was supposed to be in Slytherin."

Draco raised his eyebrow slowly. "Harry Potter, a Slytherin? I do believe the world would have ceased to exist the very moment –"

"The Sorting Hat said I would do great things in Slytherin," he added pointedly, sensing the other's disbelief. Harry dove into the story of his first few memories of Hogwarts, Draco listening bemusedly the entire time as neither moved their hands.

An hour passed and the two were finally parted, getting ready for bed, each feeling a bit lighter in the other's presence. Draco peered at the alarm clock on the dresser in the room briefly and a small smile played on his lips. He stood, waiting for Harry to return to the bathroom and once he did, they were both equally surprised by his actions. His arms found their way around Harry's neck and he pulled him in for a short, yet tight embrace. When Draco drew them apart, he peered down his nose at Harry to find him looking thoroughly stunned and flushed, as he smirked.

"Happy Birthday, Harry," he whispered and then found his place on the bed as Harry himself stood still for a moment before shutting off the light and finding his own way to the makeshift bed on the floor.

That night, Harry did something he hadn't done in a while; he drifted off into sleep with a small smile gracing his lips.

* * *

Hermione seemed to have a permanent frown etched into her features. Either that, or a pitiful smile. Draco hissed and she quickly apologized, "Sorry, does it hurt?"

"Of course it does. I do not see why you cannot just heal it. Harry won't give me my wand back still, but I would if I could," Draco explained tersely, as Hermione continued her ministrations of drying the balm that she had placed on the wounds.

"Nothing I could do would help. These are curse and hex wounds, Malfoy. You as well as I know, they have to heal on their own," she returned gently. She had been sitting in her bedroom at the Burrow with the blond for twenty minutes now, having heard all about what had happened after his parents had died. None of it surprised her, that Death Eaters would do that to their own just because he couldn't commit to murdering Dumbledore, but the extent to which they had taken it did leave her feeling uneasy. "So, was it really your own Aunt that did most of this to you?"

"Dear Bellatrix. She's a right twisted thing, she is," Draco drawled. "Her orders were to murder my parents and myself. But for me, she wanted it to last as long as possible. She wanted to deface the Mark of the Dark Lord because I was  _unworthy_. When she told me, when she first imprisoned me that night we left Hogwarts, that I would beg for any Unforgiveable over what she had planned for me, I didn't believe her. I truly should have," he bit out, before hissing again as Hermione began to rewrap his arm, looking apologetically at him.

"And the Fidelus Charm, you are certain –"

"Very certain it can be recast so long as the ownership of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place has been altered since the passing of Sirius Black. Do you know to whom it has been entrusted?" he asked. It was the only hindrance in his idea to retrieve Grimmauld Place for them to use as a Headquarters again.

Hermione frowned again, concentrating on the gauze she was carefully placing around his forearm. "We're not sure. There is a Ministry official coming tomorrow morning to read both Dumbledore and Sirius Black's wills. I am certain Sirius would have left it to..." she trailed off. "I don't think the ownership of Grimmauld Place will be an issue."

Draco nodded slowly, understanding that Harry would most likely inherit it. Once his wound was freshly dressed, he stood from the bed with all intentions of returning downstairs, but Hermione quickly grabbed his uninjured wrist to stop him. "You should wait. I might be able to cope with you, Malfoy, as much as I don't like it, but Ron needs his time and he probably has a lot of questions that only Harry can answer," she explained. "We should stay here. Maybe go see Ginny, Fred, George and the lot to explain it to them."

"I have a better idea, Granger. I have some information that is prudent and useful to all those here. Is there a possible way you can find everybody in this ghastly Burrow so I can speak to them all at once?"

Eyeing him carefully, she slowly nodded and began out the door, as Draco was about to resume his spot on the bed to wait. She turned and shook her head. "I don't think so, Malfoy. I may be okay with all of this, but you simply cannot be by yourself. Come on, then." She ushered him out the door.

 


	6. The Stone

Ron was the furthest from happy he thought he could ever be.

First, there was the entire Horcrux ordeal. Then there was the fact that he was never returning to Hogwarts ever again. And now there was  _this_. They were currently sitting in his living room with a Ministry official, having Dumbledore's and Sirius Black's wills read to them. They were all staring perplexed at their new inherited items, but Ron couldn't help but let his eyes wander to the stairs every few minutes, glaring at an invisible entity he knew was up there sitting in his room. ' _How can Harry trust that snake?'_

When the Ministry official excused himself, they turned to each other, Hermione the first to voice her opinion. "I'm not sure what good Dumbledore thought this could do?" She turned over the Beedle and the Bard in her hands.

Suddenly, the bane of Ron's existence appeared in the doorway, peering past them out of the window, as he saw the Ministry official Apparate. He crossed his arms and made his way to sit across from the three on the couch. "He thought you would be too daft to figure it out otherwise," he drawled.

Ron's face grew red and he clenched his fists. "Watch it, Malfoy, don't you dare talk to Hermione –"

"Save it, Weasel. Do you want to hear why Dumbledore gave her that book or not?" Draco snapped back and as the redhead glared at him, he looked over to find Harry staring distractedly at the Snitch in his hands, turning it over in his fingers. "I have no idea why that man left you his little device, Weasel, or why he gave Harry the Snitch, but that book makes it rather obvious, does it not? Do you know the stories in there, Granger?"

Hermione was nodding slowly. "I have heard of them before, it's a children's book," she stated, uncertain of where Malfoy was heading, but curious all the same.

"They are. I had them read to me every night as a child. I'm sure Weasel here did, too," he nodded towards Ron who was still glaring at him. "One particular story in there isn't a fable. Actually, I am certain none of them are. Dumbledore wanted you to pay specific attention to Tale of the Three Brothers. So that you, Granger, could figure out that this is one of the many things Voldemort is after. All three Hallows," he explained and sat back in his chair.

"How do you bloody know all of this? How do we know he's not lying?" Ron growled, turning towards his friends. Harry seemed barely interested in the conversation, his eyes still trained on the Snitch.

Hermione frowned and sighed, placing her hand on Ron's shoulder to keep him calm. "It makes sense, Ronald."

"Thank you, Granger, for your vote of faith. It seems to slip your mind, Weasley, that I was forcibly one of them. I have heard things, talks of the retrieval of the Elder Wand, the search for the Resurrection Stone, the attempts at taking the Invisibility Cloak from Harry." This grabbed Harry's attention and he finally looked up at Draco, his mouth slightly ajar before he quickly closed it.

"Trust me, Malfoy, it has never for one second slipped my mind that you are a filthy Death Eater!" Ron grumbled.

" _Was_ ," Harry corrected. Everybody seemed surprise that it was him this time that made the distinction, but he didn't seem to notice. "But I thought there were at least a few more Invisibility Cloaks. I know they're rare, but aren't there more than one?"

It was Hermione who was shaking her head as she answered, "No, there were rumours but none of them true. I am certain yours is the only in existence."

"I don't understand how any of this information does us any good?" Ron asked, calmer now.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Honestly, Weasley, how did you ever make it as far as you did in school?"

" _Draco_ ," Harry said warningly, not in the mood for any more banter.

The blond sucked in a deep breath before continuing, "This tells us what the Dark Lord is concentrating on. It informs us what exactly, other than recruiting, he is doing. Find the Resurrection Stone and all he's got is a wand that won't obey him." He shrugged.

"What do you mean, won't obey him?" Harry asked slowly.

"The wand chooses the wizard. Usually a wand like the Elder Wand would be won by a duel," Hermione explained, knowing where Draco was going, and she had to admit he was right; if they wanted to keep Voldemort from getting what he wanted, all they had to do was find the Resurrection Stone.

"How do you know where the Elder Wand is now? Or who it has an allegiance to?" Harry continued his questions.

"Dumbledore had it and it wasn't the Dark Lord who disarmed him that night in the Astronomy Tower. It was me."

Harry, Ron and Hermione now all opened their mouths, surprised. "So...we just have to make sure nobody disarms or defeats you in a duel and the wand will never really work for him. We keep the Cloak protected and find the Stone, and Voldemort will have nothing," Hermione said slowly, as if thinking through it all. "While we get the Horcruxes, it will be a good way to keep him from getting any more powerful."

"Exactly. Plus, it is a little difficult to be disarmed when you do not even carry a wand," Draco drawled, looking pointedly over at Harry who seemed to actually blush and look away.

"Why didn't you tell us about this last night, hmm? What else are you keeping from us?" Ron asked suspiciously.

Draco raised an eyebrow at him. "As I said to Harry a while ago, there are indeed things I have yet to share, but if I do let all be known to you, what use would I be to keep around? I tell you when the information seems pertinent." Ron looked about to interrupt, but Draco cut him off, turning specifically to Hermione and asking, "Those books I mentioned to you, do you believe they will be retrievable? Especially the Eldritch Tales and the potion texts."

Hermione nodded. "Easily, actually. Once we get to Grimmauld this evening, most of them will actually be in the Black library from what I recall. Anything else, I can get for you. I'm certain Fred and George will help," she assured.

"Then, once my research is complete I will be able to tell you all more."

"For what price?" Ron ground out, "There's no bloody way you're helping us out of the goodness of your heart."

Draco grinned. "Why, for the continuation of my safe sanctuary is all I ask." He peered over at Harry who was once again detached from the conversation and furrowing his brows at the Snitch, still ever turning in his palms. "Harry, what is it?" Draco asked quietly, all attention towards the frowning brunette.

"I open at the close," he recited and then gestured towards the Snitch before tossing it to Draco, who just barely caught it with reflexes he wouldn't have if he hadn't been a Seeker for so long. "Anybody know what that means?"

Ron and Hermione shook their heads, but Draco snorted, "Snitch's have touch memory. Do you remember how you first caught the Snitch?"

Harry nodded. "What's that got to do with it?"

"It will remember you, once you touch it the same way you did when you first caught it. I recommend trying it," Draco suggested.

"You want him to swallow the Snitch?" Ron questioned, looking briefly at Draco as if he were deranged.

"No, you imbecile – honestly, Harry, how have you survived so long in such close proximity to idiocy? – I want Harry," he paused and peered at Harry, his lips curled into a devilish smirk as he leaned towards him and gently handed him back the Snitch, his hand lingering above the others briefly, "To _kiss_ it." And then Draco did something that thankfully only Harry saw, but which caused him to flush for reasons he didn't understand; he winked at him.

As Harry gathered himself, Hermione asked, "How do you know all of this?" She seemed slightly offended that she wasn't the one to figure it out as quickly.

"I, like you Granger, like to read. I also like Quidditch...a lot," he grinned, "Snitches are such interesting little creatures, don't you think so, _Harry_?" He turned back towards the brunette who disregarded him and took a deep breath, staring levelly at the Snitch before bringing it towards his mouth. Draco watched intently as Harry's wide, dry lips graced the golden belly of the Snitch and lingered momentarily there.

Suddenly, the Snitch opened up, causing Harry to jump as he held it away from his mouth and watched as from it rose an odd looking stone. Now even Draco was surprised. They all sat quietly for a few moments, as Harry took the stone into his hand and immediately felt a heaviness upon him.

"Looks like Dumbledore just made the job even simpler for you nitwits," Draco said slowly.

"That isn't it, is it?"

"I think it is."

"I-I can't believe it! It can't have been that easy," Hermione was shaking her head.

Ron frowned. "Could you two let us in on whatever you're talking about?" Harry nodded, agreeing as he looked down in confusion at the stone.

"That's the Resurrection Stone! If Dumbledore had it the entire time, why didn't he tell you, Harry?" Hermione asked, still looking incredulously at the stone in her best friend's palm.

Harry held it tightly, closing his hand around it. "I have to go put this somewhere safe and get ready for this evening," he said suddenly, standing up and starting towards the stairs. Draco quickly followed and Harry turned to ask, "Where are you going, Draco?"

"With you, of course. It is either stay with the Weasel and his girlfriend or follow you. Unless I am finally privileged to be alone," he drawled. Harry briefly nodded before continuing up the stairs, Draco at his heels.

* * *

Harry stood in disbelief at the entrance of Grimmauld Place. He could hear Mrs Black yelling in the background, and a soft mumbling sounding not far from her which he was certain was Kreacher. "I can't believe you've done it, Draco. Thank you, a lot. Honestly, giving us back Grimmauld Place means a lot," Harry said earnestly, making his way into the house.

They had left the Burrow that afternoon before the wedding, Harry giving his congratulations, but he knew it wasn't safe for him to be there. He and Draco had gone to the Noble House of Black to issue a new Secret Keeper; him. Before they left, he had given pieces of paper with the address of Number Twelve on it to all of the Weasleys.

Draco grimaced and sniffed, "This place is worse than I recall it being when I came here as a child."

"You've been here before? Oh, right..." Harry trailed off. He had forgotten that Draco, as well as Ron, were related to the Blacks. Not only that, but of course, Narcissa was one herself.

"Do you mind if I look at the family tree? If I recall correctly, I do remember where it is," Draco said softly.

Harry nodded understandingly. "I have to see to Kreacher, anyway. Inform him he is never to leave this House because Merlin knows what he will say and to whom about our being here."

They parted ways, Harry making for Mrs Black's portrait, as Draco went to the room with the family tree spread across its walls. It took him no time to trace the branches to the portraits of his Mother and Father. He sighed as his fingers traced across their pictures. "I'm sorry I disappointed you, Father, Mother. I wish I had known that if I didn't take his life, yours would be taken. If I could, I would do it again and I would kill him in an instant if that meant getting you back," Draco whispered and then took a deep, staggering breath.

Draco wasn't sure how long passed as he was in that room, tracing the names and faces of those who had fallen all because of such a petty war. When he finally emerged, he had to search the house and its dusty, narrow walls nearly barren to find Harry upstairs in what must have been the master bedroom. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring silently at his feet. The blond slowly sat beside him, making Harry jump in surprise.

"Sirius' room?" Draco asked knowingly. Harry merely nodded, but didn't say a word. Slowly, unsure of his own actions, Draco brought his hand up to Harry's shoulder. Harry quickly stood from the bed at the touch as Draco frowned up at him. "Sorry, I just –"

"We should really work on putting up those wards," Harry abruptly cut him off and strode quickly from the room.

For the most part, they were silent, as they cast every ward imaginable. When they were finished, Kreacher had dinner prepared for them and they brought it to the small, crowded Black library as Draco rifled through the walls of books and Harry sat, slowly eating. "I hope they're okay," Harry said after a while.

Draco dropped a few more texts on his pile on the table beside his barely touched meal, and dust billowed out from them. "I am sure they are fine. Granger, at least. She has the brains enough to Apparate when it is necessary."

Harry frowned, pushing his food around with his fork. "Why do you hate Ron so much?"

"How do you not?" Draco quickly returned and then sighed, sitting down at the small drawing table beside Harry. "Weasleys and Malfoys, it goes back a long while. Not to mention the Prewitts, too. The Weasel himself is also a right git, even you know that. I am rather amazed he hasn't dumbed you and Granger down over the years," he snorted, finally taking a bite of his meal as he also opened the first textbook in his pile.

"Well, I'm rather surprised myself that you're actually being civil with Hermione at all," Harry admitted. He had expected Draco to be downright cruel when they came together and other than the minor insults, he noticed it was Ron who was starting all of the banter.

Draco smiled over at him and stopped what he was doing to fold his hands on top of the table. "Granger may be a Mudbl-Muggle-born but I cannot deny that she is extremely intelligent. It is rather unfortunate she was born from Muggles, otherwise she could have been a lot greater than she is," he explained, his eyes holding Harry's gaze as the brunette smiled thankfully at him.

"I know it must be hard. I know you do not like either of them, even if you are playing nice with Hermione. Thank you, for all of your help, Draco, you're really going to make all these tasks easier." Harry had to bite back the smile that grew larger with his own words as he turned back to his plate.

Much to Draco's surprise, he could find his cheeks growing warm. "Need I remind you that the Horcruxes and the Deathly Hallows are barely the tip of defeating Voldemort. And do not forget, Harry, it is you whom is helping me," he reminded him.

Harry blushed and nodded. "Right, well, you're welcome then."

Draco merely chuckled under his breath and shook his head, turning his gaze back towards his book. "Even when you are the one offering the assistance, you are so bloody thankful. I guess I can count on you to never change, Potter."

It must have been close to midnight when a loud banging was heard on the door. It startled Harry awake from a place he couldn't remember falling asleep in. He was on the small loveseat in the library, a musky smelling blanket thrown over top of him. He looked around him and saw Draco slowly standing from his spot at the drawing desk, almost all the books propped open to a particular page as he was writing on numerous bits of parchment. When he looked over at Harry, he gave a startling, warm smile, despite his obvious weariness.

"Must be Granger and the Weasel at last," Draco said softly.

Harry nodded and sat up from the couch. "Did you –" he stopped himself and stood on wobbly legs, as Draco nodded his head and turned to leave for the foyer to greet the two new arrivals. "Er, thanks," Harry mumbled and quickly followed after.

When the two finally answered the door, Ron and Hermione quickly entered before closing and locking it behind them. "I still don't understand why we had to put Apparation wards up. Would have been so much bloody easier," Ron muttered.

"I'm glad you two are okay, what happened?" Harry quickly asked, hugging both Ron and Hermione before leading them into the living room.

"Malfoy was right," Hermione stated. "The wedding was attacked by Death Eaters. We Apparated immediately out of there, had to do it a few times just to shake them."

"Is that what took you so long?"

Hermione shook her head and reached into her satchel, pulling out a book that was obviously too large to fit in the small pouch. She handed it towards Malfoy who looked at it before gratefully taking it. "Getting that is what took us so long. I was certain the Black's wouldn't have a copy of the Eldritch Tales. Other than that, Malfoy, did you find all the books you need?"

Draco nodded. "It will just take me awhile to go through everything. Thanks, Granger."

Hermione turned to Harry. "You did a really good job on the wards, Harry."

"Yeah, and you're bloody lucky, Malfoy, that your Fidelius Charm worked how you said it would," Ron grumbled.

Grey eyes narrowed as he rounded on Ron. "Or what, Weasel?"

"Oh, I don't know, I could think of a certain animal that would be fitting for you to be permanently transfigured as." Ron crossed his arms and sniggered at Draco's widened eyes, briefly recalling his minutes as a ferret back in Fourth Year.

"Ron," Harry hissed and then sighed, rubbing his temples. "I think we should all head to bed, it's getting late. We can talk about our plans for the first Horcrux tomorrow."

Everybody nodded slowly in agreement and made their way to their separate rooms. With only the four of them, they each could have their own, but Ron insisted Draco stay with at least one other person at all times. Harry, not so reluctantly, agreed to share a room with him.

It took Harry awhile to fall asleep that night. At first, he told himself it was because of the impeding Horcrux hunt. But he knew, as his eyes rested on the silhouetted figure lying on the bed beside his own, sleeping soundly, that it wasn't Horcruxes keeping him awake. Harry had to force himself to turn on his other side, away from Draco.

 


	7. Flesh Bound

Draco was startled awake by the sound of groaning. At first, it was soft, although pained. It slowly grew louder, more strained and consistent. He rubbed his eyes in the dark bedroom, adjusting to the lack of light and being awoken by the sound. "No, please, no!" Harry croaked in his sleep. Draco sighed, pushed himself off the bed and made his way over to the brunette's.

Looking down at Harry, he frowned. The boy was thrashing slightly underneath his thin sheet; sweat was beading down his forehead, and he kept moaning every few moments now and uttering 'No'. Draco reached out and attempted to shake him awake gently, all to no avail. The back of his hand pressed against his forehead, to find he was burning up. "Harry, Harry wake up. You're having a nightmare or something," Draco mumbled tiredly, shaking him again by the shoulders. Still, he didn't wake. Instead, his groans became louder, his thrashing larger.

"Sirius, please, no! Come back! Don't fall!" Harry's voice was so stricken with pleading sorrow, his forehead was furrowed. Draco's frown deepened and he reached forward again. This time, his tentative fingers traced the infamous lightning bolt scar down Harry's forehead. Harry shivered noticeably at the touch, but was still not roused. "Sirius! Sirius! SIRIUS!"

By the third scream, Draco was sitting on the edge of the bed and he pushed Harry's fringe, which was sticking to his perspiring forehead, aside. His arm snaked under the other's neck and brought his head to lie on his chest. Draco adjusted himself to lie beside Harry, his own eyes still half-lidded and all he could think about was sleep. Harry's screams and groans subsided, his thrashing slowly ceased and he curled into the warm body beside him. Draco sighed and quickly drifted off into sleep again and somehow, within moments of slumber, their bodies were lightly entwined with Harry's head resting just above Draco's heart, their arms loosely placed over top of one another.

Draco was already back asleep by the time the door to their bedroom creaked open ever so slightly and two inquiring, wide eyes peered in for a few moments, before disappearing again.

The next morning, Draco woke long before Harry and quickly assessed his current, awkward situation. He briefly recalled waking to the sound of what must have been a nightmare for Harry and coming into bed with him which had seemed to automatically comfort the slumbering boy – for what reasons, Draco was unsure, but to him, all that mattered was that he'd gotten his full night's rest. What he didn't remember, however, was entwining his legs with the brunette and bringing both his arms about his torso to hold him.

Realizing just how that might have looked if Harry awoke, or Merlin forbid, one of the other two Gryffindors of the house entered the room, Draco quickly, although stealthily, removed himself.

After a long, cold shower, Draco found himself down in the small, cluttered kitchen asking the House Elf for a cup of coffee. "Is Master Malfoy?" Kreacher asked in slight disbelief, apparently having been too preoccupied to notice his presence amidst the disgrace of Harry and his friends being in the household the evening prior.

Draco nodded. "Yes, the younger. Coffee, House Elf?" He asked again.

Kreacher's eyes were wide, and his old, thin hands were wringing around themselves. "Master Malfoy, Kreacher has heard news of your allegiance to the Dark Lord, just like Master Malfoy Senior. So proud, Master Malfoy, so very proud. Is another Pureblood in this home. Mistress will be pleased. Very pleased," he ranted in his raspy breath.

Draco rolled his eyes. "That's fantastic. Now coffee, Kreacher?"

The House Elf bowed his large, bald head. "Anything for a servant of the Dark Lord. Anything for Master Malfoy."

Draco spent no time correcting him. All he wanted was his coffee. He sat down at the kitchen table as Kreacher prepared it for him, and brought him a copy of the Daily Prophet. Draco barely glanced at it before tossing it aside.

"Good morning, Malfoy, Kreacher," Hermione greeted quietly from the door, and she began to bustle around the kitchen, apparently getting a glass of water before sitting across from Draco, who merely crossed his arms.

"Kreacher, coffee?" He shortly asked again.

Hermione frowned. "He's not a slave, you don't have to talk to him –"

"Anything for Master Malfoy. Master Malfoy deserves Kreacher's assistance, Mudblood," Kreacher snarled beneath his breath. Hermione looked between the House Elf, who was finally bringing Draco his coffee, and the blond.

"It pays to be a Pureblood here, Granger," he smirked. The House Elf bowed his head lowly again before slowly dragging himself out of the kitchen.

Hermione ignored the urge to lecture Malfoy on the proper treatment of House Elves and sucked in a deep breath instead, taking a sip from her water before asking, "Sleep well, Malfoy?"

Draco stilled momentarily before inclining his head. "As well as is possible in this wretched place, mere doors down from an idiotic Weasley who wants my head."

"Oh, I don't know. From where I stood it looked like you had a good sleep," she returned suggestively.

Once again, Draco stopped in his ministrations, lowered his cup to the table and looked over at her. She quickly averted her gaze. "Whatever you saw, Granger, it was not what it seemed to be."

Hermione raised her eyebrow. "Right. Of course, because to me it looked a lot like –"

"Potter was having some sort of nightmare," he cut her off, replying shortly.

"I know. I heard, that's why I came down. Usually..." she trailed off, not knowing how much information Harry would be comfortable to share with Malfoy and decided it best not to say anymore on the subject of his nightmares. "Did he have them while you were at the Dursleys'?"

Draco shook his head. "Just last night. Perhaps it is being here, he kept mentioning Black," he explained.

Hermione frowned but didn't respond. What she had seen wasn't somebody trying to wake somebody else from their nightmare; she had seen Malfoy comforting Harry. Since when was he capable of that? When she withdrew from her own thoughts, Draco was standing from the table and gently calling Kreacher again. When the House Elf reappeared, he ordered him to make all four of them breakfast. "You know, Malfoy, I could –"

"We have better things to do. The quicker we figure out how we are going to handle the Horcruxes, the sooner I can be rid of your atrocious company," Draco clipped and turned on his heel, leaving the kitchen. "I will be doing my research in the library. Do find somewhere else to do your own work."

She watched him leave, her frown deepening. Sometimes, he sounded like the old Malfoy she knew, but the anger wasn't there anymore. Hermione shook it from her thoughts. So long as Malfoy stayed within Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, there wasn't any harm he could do. The wards wouldn't allow him to leave unless through the front door and there were no owls about, other than Hedwig, who was strictly off duty, and no Floo Network connections any longer. Hermione knew there were more important things to be concerning herself with, like looking at the plans Harry had drafted for retrieval of Slytherin's locket from Umbridge, and beginning to brew the Polyjuice Potion. Still, she made a point of privately speaking to Harry once he woke.

* * *

Draco was absolutely consumed by his research. Old potions texts, many untranslated, were where he wanted to start, as it seemed like it would take him the longest to get through them. A soft knock on the door drew his eyes away from the pages only momentarily to see who it was, before he returned, his one hand tracing the lines of the book and his other wrapped tightly around a rarely scribbling quill.

"Come to check up on me, make sure I haven't done anything wicked yet?" Draco drawled lowly.

Harry awkwardly laughed as he leaned against the chair opposite of him. "No, I know you're not like that anymore..." he trailed off. "Just wondering how the research was going. Whether you could let me in on your little theory yet."

Draco shook his head. "Not yet, sorry. I still don't even quite understand much of it myself. Most of it is from memories coming together, things I heard about the Manor before I left."

Nodding in understanding, Harry reached the nearest text and picked it up, grimacing at the context of it before placing it back on the table. "Ugh, potions. Is it really necessary –?"

"Very, actually," he cut him off softly, before sighing, putting his quill down and looking wearily up at Harry. "Unless there is anything else, maybe you should go assist Granger and the Weasel with their Polyjuice Potion?"

Harry shrugged. "'Mione's pretty good at them, Ron's just doing the grunt work for her, no need, really."

"And you three are certain of your plans?" Harry nodded. Draco pursed his lips before turning back to his pages. "Like I said, unless there's anything else, may I return to this? The quicker I finish the better."

"Er, well, there is something...Hermione said, well...what happened last night?" Harry stammered, a hint of red blossoming on his cheeks. He noticed how immediately the blond's jaw clenched, how he shifted uncomfortably in his seat but seemed content not to answer. "It's just that, I know I had a...dream and –"

"Nightmare is more like it, Potter," Draco grumbled. "It sounded horrible, Harry. May I ask, was it about _him_?" He asked softly.

Harry nodded. "It's just going to take a while to get used to being here," he admitted with a sigh, as he finally sat down in the chair. "But that's not what I'm talking about, Draco. I know I have nightmares. Dumbledore used to think they were more vivid if they're connected to Voldemort. Then there are the visions and those," he shivered. "It's been awhile since I've had one of them and I'm glad I haven't. What I'm talking about, Draco, is what Hermione said she saw."

Draco frowned and looked away from Harry, back at his texts to avoid any form of eye contact. "What she saw was a mistake. I should have just beat you awake. All I wanted was to go back to sleep and it seemed like the quickest solution. That's all; you were disturbing my rest," he lied, knowing full well it wasn't all, but it's what he would keep telling himself and Harry both.

"Er, well thanks. And I'm sorry, I guess," he grumbled.

"S'fine, Potter. You should really look into using Occlumency often; for the connection to Voldemort, I mean."

Harry sighed. "Snape tried to teach me a few years ago, I'm so wretched at it."

Draco picked up his quill again, indicating what was to him, the end of the conversation. "I have to get back to this if you ever want me to finish. And Harry, when I need a break from the books, I could always try to help you with Occlumency. I got pretty good at it last year. I needed to."

Harry smiled thankfully. "That'd be great, Draco, thanks."

A few minutes went by in silence. Draco couldn't truly concentrate until Harry finally excused himself, realizing he really didn't have any other need to be there and that he should be helping Ron and Hermione with the Polyjuice Potion.

_'I do not have time for distractions. The faster I get this done, the sooner we can kill that rat bastard. The sooner I can wring Bellatrix's neck with my bare hands. Then I can allow myself to be distracted by you, Harry.'_

* * *

_One week later_.

Hermione gathered them all in the drawing room. They had decided amongst the three of them that they were ready. She divvied out the three vials of Polyjuice Potion. They clinked their vials together, Draco coming up close behind the group. Ron was the first to drink it, immediately retching after he did. Before Hermione or Harry could drink their own, Harry jumped, as he felt Malfoy's wand sliding out of his back pocket.

In a few seconds, all three former Gryffindors were glaring between Malfoy and the tip of his wand. It took only a moment before Ron withdrew his own. "I've already got a million reasons to, Malfoy, give me another!" Ron growled.

"Try me, Weasel. This is completely imbecilic! I knew you twats were planning it, but to go through with it with as little foresight as you three have, Merlin! I am beside myself that even the Mudblood is agreeing –" he didn't get to finish his sentence, as Harry threw him up against the wall. His head connected with a sickening crack, and he hissed in pain. Harry had him pinned, his face only an inch away with one hand on his shoulder and the other gripping his wand wrist tightly.

Anger was exuding from those narrowed, emerald eyes. "Sod off, Malfoy. We don't need your consent," he spat.

Draco levelled his gaze and with his pinned wrist, his fingers curled even tighter around his wand, he whispered, " _Necto Carnicula_." A red stream of light came forward and before anyone could respond, it wound itself about Harry's hand, pressing into his skin with an odd warming sensation. As the red light dissipated, Harry went to remove his hand, but found that he couldn't.

"Malfoy, you bastard, let me go!" Harry demanded, continuously trying to wrench his hand free, but it was as if it had been superglued in place.

" _Finite Incantartum_ ," Hermione swished her wand, causing Draco to smirk wryly.

"Only the caster can lift it."

A growl rumbled in the depths of Harry's chest. He drew back his free arm with intent to strike, but his movements were stilled by Draco's shrill protest, "Please! Wait, Harry! Let me explain." There was a hint of desperation in his tone.

"Unhand me, Malfoy."

"What happened to Draco? And technically, it is  _you_  whom has their hands on  _me_ , Harry. I'm sorry, but I simply cannot let you go, it is too dangerous."

"Harry," Hermione said softly. "We're wasting time. Ron and I could always go on our own," she suggested.

Harry looked over his shoulder at her, surprised. "You guys can't –"

"I've already taken the Potion, mate. We only got this chance, if we're going to do this, we have to do it immediately," Ron added, looking down at his oddly foreign appearance.

"Malfoy, you can't let me –"

"I refuse, Harry. Either you are taking me attached to you or we're staying here. Either way, I will not lift the spell," he said defiantly.

Harry couldn't look any more murderous as he rounded on his frowning, anxious friends. "Fine. Go. Hurry and please be safe."

Hermione nodded and dove into her pocket, pulling out a very familiar coin. Harry smiled at the memory of their D.A. coin as it was placed in his free hand. She closed his fingers around it. "If we get into trouble, I'll let you know. We'll be okay, Harry," she promised.

"Can't say the same for you, mate. Please be sure to murder the snake while we're out," Ron growled, glaring over Harry's shoulder at the blond who sneered back.

A moment later, they Disapparated. Draco turned his sneer to a smirk, as he turned to Harry and whispered, " _Finite_."

Harry wasted no time demanding, "Why the hell did you do that, Draco?"

"Do what? I haven't –"

"Save it," he snapped, crossing his arms and taking a few steps backwards to put some distance in between them. "What's your prerogative here?"

Draco sighed and found his way to the couch of the drawing room in Grimmauld Place. "Are you honestly going to keep questioning my motives, even after all I have done for you? The Fidelius Charm, the information, saving you from potential death by idiocy from attending Bill and Fleur's wedding? Taking the effort and time to show you how to properly use Occlumency?"

Harry frowned. "It could still be due to ulterior motives, you're trying to lead us somewhere, I know it!" He accused.

"Come on, pull out your Sneak-o-Scope, Harry. I know you carry that bloody thing around in your pocket," he returned bitterly.

"It's like a Muggle's polygraph – there are ways to lie around it," he shrugged, speaking through clenched teeth. He was in a slight state of disbelief that after all these years, Draco actually expected him to trust him that soon.

"Get me asphodel, unicorn hair, erumpent tail, lovage and moondew, then! Let me  _prove_ myself to you," Draco hissed, his eyes unwavering. He wanted him to know, despite his pride, how much he truly wished to help. How honest he had been with them since he sought sanctuary.

"What for? Drought of Death?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "No, Harry. Did you honestly never pay attention in Potions? For Veritaserum," he bit out and stood to bring himself before the other boy, looking down his nose at him. "I have nowhere to go. I have nothing to offer other than myself and what I know. Trust me when I say I want nothing more than to put that bastard in the ground for what he did not only to my parents, but what he did to yours."

Harry stilled, looking wide-eyed at the taller boy, before frowning. When he finally spoke, it was softly. "Since when do you care about my parents?"

"Since before I met you. Since the moment I knew you," Draco breathed and then turned to leave, calling over his shoulder before he was up the stairs. "When you choose to believe me, you know where to find me."

Immediately, the absence of the blond sucked the warmth from the room. Harry shivered involuntarily as he made to fall down on the couch. ' _You know you can trust him. He may still be a prat but do you really think he could dishonour his parents so far as to still serve that man?'_ Harry sat unmoving, fingering the D.A. coin as he thought, hoping Ron and Hermione were safe. After a while, he made his decision and found himself knocking softly on Draco's door.


	8. An Oath

Harry pushed himself uninvited into his room; Draco didn't react to his presence. He was sitting with his back to the door, his shoulders hunched, and Harry could have sworn they were quivering ever so slightly. From his vantage point, Harry caught a glimpse of a crumpled photograph of a younger, smaller Draco at King's Cross Station – his parents smiling and standing on either side of him. "Out of all the things I could have taken when I escaped, this was it," he whispered, his voice sounding weak.

The brunette never felt more torn in his life. He knew, even without seeing his face that Draco was crying. Maybe his tears weren't falling, but they were there. All thoughts of it being Draco Malfoy left his head. All he saw was somebody else who had had their family taken away from them by Voldemort. He joined him on the bed, sat behind him and tentatively brought his arms around the shaking blond.

The sudden contact caused Draco to jump at first, but he soon relaxed into the embrace. His head fell backwards for support on Harry's shoulder, and Harry got a skewed look at his face. "About before, I believe you, Draco. I do. We'll get him, together. Even if it takes a lifetime, he will get what he deserves, that's a promise," he whispered earnestly.

Draco stiffened slightly as he let go of the photograph. It fell onto the floor near his feet, and he brought his hand to rest on Harry's forearm. Now it was the brunette's turn to startle at the contact. "I refuse to allow it to take that long," he said, and Harry only held him tighter in response.

For a fleeting moment, Harry felt one and the same with Draco. They both had lost their parents due to some madman, but at least Harry had Hermione, the Weasleys and the Order. He realized that he truly was all that Draco had. "Will you finally tell me everything?" Harry asked after neither moved for a few, long minutes. He added, "It would just make everything move so much quicker if we were all on the same page, y'know? We could all help each other achieve the same goal."

Despite himself, Draco stood from the bed. Harry folded his arms awkwardly into his own chest as he watched him. "I will," he nodded. "But I propose a Wizard's Oath first."

"A Wizard's Oath? What for?"

"After I spill my guts, who is to say you won't leave me to fend on my own?" He countered gently.

Harry appeared to be offended. "If I were to do that I would've never helped you in the first place!"

"I know. But Weasley and a dozen other Order members wouldn't hesitate to throw me out into the cold." He crossed his arms. He couldn't give everything away without ensuring his own safety. As much as he trusted Harry, which he blindingly did at this point, nothing in the world could ever force him to trust a redhead.

After a moment's consideration, Harry sighed, "I have no problems with an Oath, Draco, but what is one between you and I going to do to stop my friends from their own actions?"

Draco shrugged. "You promise to keep me with you. Physically. If they wanted to toss me, they would have to toss you, too."

"And your end of the Oath?"

"I tell you everything. Without questions. I tell you what I know about Voldemort, what I don't know but think I do, what I've heard. My entire story is yours; my mind for you to see. You even have my permission to use Legilimancy on me, if you feel it necessary. And you may have my loyalty, which is already yours," he reminded Harry who, for a reason unbeknownst to himself, blushed.

"Will you swear to keep us all safe, to not betray us, so long as it's in your power?" Harry verified softly.

Draco narrowed his eyes and came to stand before Harry. He reached down and pulled him up to stand by his shoulders. Harry tensed at the touch, but didn't dare to move. It was strange, to be held by Draco and not wish to recoil. What was even stranger was that he could swear the taller boy was bending lower, craning his neck so that their faces were nearly touching. "No, this is between you and me only, Harry. I don't trust them, but I trust you with my life," he said firmly, Harry nearly crumbled beneath the intense look in his grey eyes. Draco removed himself at last, his arms falling to his side. "Take it or leave it."

For a moment, Harry felt desperate, as Draco went to turn his back to him. Without hesitation or so much as a thought, he grabbed him by his right wrist and wheeled him around with such force it brought their fronts together. Draco went wide-eyed, but didn't move. He couldn't afford to. Harry felt Draco's chest rise against his own and he could even smell the boy's shampoo – or Hermione's, rather – on him, they were so close. His eyes fell to long, narrow and slightly parted lips.

Neither knew who closed the distance, but it didn't quite matter. All that did was that Draco's arms had found themselves around Harry's waist and there were two steady hands on his own chest. Harry's lips were curled around Draco's top one, his bottom lip feeling hot breath ghost against it, before a tongue scraped almost timidly along.

The reaction was immediate, as Harry opened his mouth and welcomed the other in, his own tongue mirroring each small movement Draco's was making. His hands fell down his chest slowly and around to his back, accidentally slipping under the hem of his shirt where he felt smooth skin against his calloused fingertips. Draco sucked in a breath at the touch, which caused Harry to kiss him even harder, his tongue working faster and with a greater sense of hunger.

Suddenly, a loud crack was heard from the floor beneath them and they flung apart faster than they had come together. Harry was hurriedly straightening his clothes and trying to bite down his blush, refusing to look across the room at Draco.

"Harry, that was..." Draco trailed off and sighed, defeated, as Harry turned and made to leave as soon as he spoke. "...not what I expected," he finished dejectedly once he was alone. He took a moment to collect himself, and pocket the picture of his parents, then headed towards the source of the unmistakeable noise of somebody Apparating.

When Draco joined the three in the drawing room, he had his arms crossed as he leaned against the door way. The former Gryffindors were embracing, smiling broadly, as the tale of the retrieval of the Horcrux went on. "Let's see it then," he said coolly, all heads turning towards him. Ron sneered, Hermione frowned and Harry blushed and quickly averted his gaze. Draco pretended it didn't bother him.

"What for, to take it back –"

"Ron," Harry cut him off softly, and the redhead pursed his lips as Draco smirked over at him. "I think it best we all see it, anyway."

Hermione's frown deepened. "Have it. There's something about it. It makes me feel... _angry_ ," she explained slowly, retrieving it from under her shirt and about her neck. She tossed it to Harry, who caught it and immediately felt the weight of it bearing down on him. Almost the same sort of feeling a Dementor gave him, but not to the same extent.

"This is definitely it. The real locket of Salazar Slytherin," Harry muttered, his fingers running across it before making to put it around his neck.

Draco quickly crossed the distance between them and stopped him, his hand curled around Harry's. Harry looked up at him, surprised, Hermione and Ron looking the same. "I do not think it wise for you to wear that, Harry," he stated seriously.

"Pray tell, Malfoy, why is that?" Ron snapped, crossing his arms at the scene.

Rolling his eyes, Draco ignored the redhead and concentrated on Harry, his fingers tightening on his hand. "That is part of Riddle's soul. A right nasty part, too. Not to mention it is a possession of Salazar himself. The combination is what made Granger here feel angry and she wore it – what? Ten minutes?"

Hermione frowned and muttered. "Five."

"Five. Five minutes and she was already feeling its influence. You, Harry, are the most over emotional, temperamental person I have ever met in my entire life," he said softly. Harry was about to retort something, as he tried to wriggle his hand free, but Draco merely tightened his grip, and Harry was surprised that his grip beat his own. "Think about it, Harry. What do you think it would do to you when you already have a piece of him in you? I for one think not only is it too dangerous, but also," he took a deep breath, closing his eyes and summing up any sort of courage he had, "I cannot have you hurting yourself inadvertently like this."

That same red that Draco had decided he enjoyed blossomed up Harry's cheeks. Hermione was watching intently, as Ron seemed to be scoffing behind them. Despite his friends' presence, Harry found his hand turning up to meet Draco's, his own fingers pressed against his knuckles in an odd hold, the locket pressing between their palms. Harry had to fight back a smile at the corner of his lips. "What do you suggest then, Draco? Hermione, no offence, is a girl and –"

"The Weasel here is, well, a redhead so it goes without saying how he would handle it," Draco drawled and at last, he released Harry's hand, both of them feeling odd at the loss of contact.

"Hey! Watch it, Ferret!"

"Ronald," Hermione finally said softly. "He is right, Harry. Maybe we can just wear it in shifts, the three of us," she suggested.

Draco turned his back to them, walked over to the mantle place and ran his hand along its dusty edge. "I can wear it."

"No. Bloody. Way! We're not stupid enough to give you a bleeding Horcrux, especially after all the effort Hermione and I went through to get it!" Ron screamed at him, turning to Harry who seemed to strangely be considering the option. "Harry, don't even think about it! Can't you see? Malfoy's poisoning you! He's been lying since he asked for sanctuary, just to get to you!"

It happened quickly. Draco turned on Ron with his wand drawn and his grey eyes flashing. "You think I lied about my Father?  _My Mother_? I loved her more than anything else in this world, that is why I became a Death Eater, that is why I did everything I did to hurt Harry, to try and kill Dumbledore! They were going to murder her and they promised me they wouldn't so long as I tried. AND I TRIED!" Draco yelled at the top of his voice now, and even Ron was taken aback by the outburst. "I TRIED MY HARDEST! But I couldn't. I couldn't murder him. I couldn't do it and so they saw to it that she was murdered anyway. Do you really think I would still do their bidding after what they did to her? What if it had been your Mother, hmm? What would _you_ have done to save her life?" He was whispering venomously now. He jumped and then took a deep shuddering breath, as a hand suddenly appeared on his shoulder.

Harry gripped him lightly. "Like I said before. I believe you, Draco," he whispered, only loud enough for Draco to hear. "Why do you think you would do so much better wearing the necklace?"

"I have been around him more than anybody else in this room. Dementors, too. Objects of Salazar Slytherin, as well. Not to mention, I can control my emotions better than any of you." He gestured between the three in the room, before reaching out to Harry's hand, still grasping the necklace. He opened the fingers and took it. Ron started forward to stop the transaction, but Harry merely shook his head.

"You're not better at controlling your emotions, Draco, you're just better at hiding them," Harry said pointedly.

Draco shrugged, pulling the chain of the locket over his head and leaving it to hang heavily around his neck. "It is better than nothing. And our best option, until we find a way to destroy it."

"I agree," Hermione said, much to Ron's surprise. "If you need one of us to take it for a while, we will be more than willing. It's not a nice feeling."

"To have a piece of a madman around your neck? I cannot fathom why it wouldn't feel like butterflies and daisies," Draco drawled, but he was smiling thankfully at the bushy-haired girl who offered a small smile in return.

"Hermione, you too? How can you both honestly trust Malfoy? This is insane!"

Harry frowned at Ron. "The Wizard's Oath. You wanted it, right Draco? So let's do it. They can be our witnesses, we can add a few conditions other than the ones we previously talked about," he suggested.

Draco nodded curtly. "Fine. But like I said, I will not make an Oath involving them, Harry. It's just you and me."

"A Wizard's Oath? Harry, you can't be serious –"

"Trust me, Ron. You can help me go over the fine points of it before hand, even. It's in all of our best interests," Harry explained.

"But a Wizard's Oath, isn't that like an Unbreakable Vow?" Hermione asked slowly.

Draco shook his head. "In a way. But when the Oath is broken, one does not die. Instead, one feels incredible pain, like the Cruciatus Curse, and both parties feel the compelling urge not to break the Oath in the first place. It is bound by a contract, signed with a wand," he explained.

"You seem to know a lot about Oaths, Malfoy. How many have you made in your day?" Ron grumbled.

Draco frowned, turning from the room. "One. With my Father."

"Well, depending on the terms of the Oath, I certainly don't see why it's a bad idea, Harry," Hermione finally said.

"I still don't like this one bit, mate. Malfoy's gotta have some tricks up his sleeve," Ron said, scowling at the blond.

A smirk suddenly grew on his lips. "Oh, I have plenty of tricks, Weasel, I just do not think Harry would be quite pleased if I were to show them to you." With that, he sent a small wink in Harry's direction, as the brunette suddenly burned hot. Ron was still scowling at him confusedly, as Hermione's eyes widened comically. She looked between Harry and Draco, before the Slytherin finally removed himself from the room, no doubt to return to the library. Hermione wasn't far behind him, still not wanting to leave him alone with the Horcrux so soon.

Ron turned to Harry, his brows furrowed. "What the hell did Malfoy mean by that?"

Still beet red, Harry muttered, "I've no idea Ron, I have no idea." But Harry knew exactly what Draco meant and for the rest of the day he couldn't stop thinking about the meaning behind his words or those lips curled around his own.


	9. Plunging

Sleep eluded Harry. Draco rested soundlessly beside him, Slytherins' locket hanging about his neck, and he watched his chest rise and fall steadily through the dark. Even just being within close proximity of it gave Harry an ill feeling; he was surprised Draco had yet to show signs of its influence. Yet, it wasn't just the Horcrux keeping him awake.

The boys' earlier shared kiss was burning in his head. He kept asking himself why he had done it, but when the answers came to him, he would refuse to listen. Oh, he certainly knew why he had leaned forward and captured the lips of a snake, but that didn't mean he was willing to accept it.

He should be happy, but something heavy was weighing down on his chest. Tomorrow afternoon they had plans to perform a Wizard's Oath. Harry was eagerly anticipating it, wanting desperately to know what Draco thought about Voldemort, what he had heard and seen. And they had captured their first Horcrux already, much faster than the three of them had thought they would. Harry knew he should be happy with their progress, but he simply couldn't be; not with the weight of that kiss bearing down on his thoughts.

A small noise escaped Draco's slightly parted lips, a soft sigh that reached Harry's ears. He smiled at the sleeping form that mumbled dreamily and turned away from the brunette, curled on his side and pressing into his pillow harder. Harry finally crawled underneath his own sheets, smiling as he did.

The next morning was like a dream to Harry. He was woken by the smell of breakfast. He ate with Ron and Hermione, wearily mulling over ideas for destroying the Horcrux. They had collectively decided to wait to retrieve anymore until they had means to destroy the one they had. They all had suggestions, but Hermione insisted on just needing more time to figure it out. Halfway through breakfast, he realized something, or someone, was missing.

"Where's Draco?" he asked suddenly.

Ron looked over at him frowning, and it was Hermione that answered, "Up in the library, he has been all morning since before I even woke up."

Harry stood to leave and as he went to turn, Ron quickly reached out and grabbed his wrist. "He's just doing that bloody research again, you don't have to check on him every five minutes."

"I know," Harry simply replied before wriggling his wrist free and turning to leave the kitchen.

Ron huffed once he was gone, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms, as Hermione sat down beside him. "I swear Harry spends more time with Malfoy these days than us. With all the wards around this place, he doesn't need checking up on every few minutes."

Hermione placed her hand comfortingly on his knee. "Ron, there are bigger things at hand than us. I'm sure Harry is just doing what he needs to do. And I don't think they much mind each other's company; ever since Malfoy's sanctuary they seem...close in a way."

"Hah! Malfoy and Harry close. I'm sure Harry's just paranoid about the ponce!"

Upstairs, Harry entered the small library, frowning at what he saw. Draco was hunched over a particularly ancient looking text, one hand scribbling manically and the other fingering Salazar's locket. His usually well-kept hair was askew at all odd angles, and he looked paler than normal, which was odd to Harry because he had been certain that a human being couldn't be whiter than Draco tended to be. "Hey," Harry started softly, "Have you been up here all morning?"

Draco stilled only for a moment, not even lifting his head to acknowledge Harry's presence. Harry took a seat across from him at the small drawing table. "What's up? Can I help with-"

"Not until the Oath is complete. You three should be figuring out how to destroy this sodding thing, not chatting over scones and tea," Draco snapped, his eyes never wavering from the text pages.

At first, Harry was taken aback by the sudden vehemence, but then he looked down to the locket. Resolutely, he stood and closed the distance between them, reaching his hand out to Draco, who jumped as he closed his palm around his knuckles, the locket inside of his hand. Draco looked up at him confusedly and Harry smiled down. "It's the locket. Let me take it, just for a few minutes at least, give you a break."

Draco sighed and nodded, but neither moved for a moment, Harry's hand gripping his own a little tighter before manoeuvring the locket from his neck and placing it around his own. He immediately felt its influence, but smiled nonchalantly at the relieved looking blond. "Thank you. I do hope Granger is doing her best to find a way to destroy it with haste. It's a nasty piece of work," he grumbled.

Harry sat back down across from him and reached over, his hand hovering over his forearm before he flushed and retracted it, only to have Draco quickly reach out, grasping his hand with his own. Harry jumped at it, the feeling of their warm palms pressed together, his sweaty and Draco's bony and dry in comparison. He was staring, blushing and wide-eyed at their hands as Draco chuckled beneath his breath. "Why do you back away so often from this?" he asked, squeezing his hand.

"I-I don't know what you mean," Harry stuttered.

"I may not understand this, Harry, and it may be beyond all better judgement and reasoning, but that does not give me reason to hide from it," he said softly, his other hand reaching out to cover Harry's knuckles.

Harry felt suddenly surrounded with words just as his hand touched the other's skin. "I'm not hiding," he mumbled, "I just don't know what this is. You came to me for sanctuary, Draco, we have Horcruxes to hunt and destroy, an absolute madman to kill-"

"That doesn't mean we can't be human in the process."

"Even without all of that. I  _hated_  you. You treated my friends like garbage and you still haven't apologized to them, which was one of the conditions of your sanctuary. Merlin, how much I loathed you," Harry muttered. Even just thinking about Hogwarts felt like a faraway life, so long ago, even though it was only months. It seemed like a different lifetime, one he would never be able to retrieve and live again.

Draco's upper hand was running soft circles around Harry's hand, his lower one slowly moving so that their fingers loosely entwined on the table top. "Yes, trust me, I know how much you hated me. If we let our pasts constantly dictate our future, nothing will ever change."

 _'I already took the plunge when I kissed him. And I liked it. How much can this hurt?'_ Gathering all the Gryffindor courage left in him, Harry reached forward with his own hand and gently placed it on Draco's left forearm, where he knew his wounds were nearly healed, but still there. "Does it hurt still?"

"Not really. As horribly painful as it was, I am sort of glad she did what she did to me. I never have to look at that Dark Mark again so long as I can help it." He seethed just thinking about it. Harry slowly pushed the sleeve up, and ran his fingers gently down the length of the outermost scars. It was the innermost, deepest wounds that still had yet to be healed. Draco was smiling down at the fingers tracings the scars, faint markings of the old Dark Mark seen between them.

"If I knew then what I know now, I would have come for you, Draco. I would have stopped that crazy bitch. She deserves, at the very least, death," Harry whispered icily. Bellatrix had taken the person Harry loved the most and now, with these odd and foreign feelings developing for Draco, knowing what she did to him churned his stomach.

Draco's smile widened. "I know. That's why I came to you, Harry. I could have gone to the Weasleys. Molly herself would have listened despite her son. I could have gone to the werewolf, McGonagall or even Nymphadora, as she is technically family. Merlin forbid, I could have even gone to Longbottom," he grinned, as Harry chuckled.

"Neville would have been a great help, he's a good guy."

"I know, but the boy is rather thick. I had to come to you, you were the only one I knew for certain would take me in, although grudgingly."

"How could you know that? I just watched you bring a bunch of Death Eaters into Hogwarts, I watched you nearly kill Dumbledore among many others in the months before that in attempt to get him. After everything, how could you be so sure?"

Draco laughed, as he leaned forward on the table towards Harry with a crooked smile. "You are the Saviour, Potter, the bloody Chosen One. Of course you would take me in, it's what heroes do."

Harry looked across at him, frowning and shaking his head. "Don't call me that."

"But it's exactly what you are. You were born for this, literally."

"And my parents were born to die?" Harry quickly shook his head. "No, I don't like fate and all that rubbish. I'm no hero, Draco, I just do what I can."

Harry hadn't realized that he too had been leaning further across the table, his fingers still tracing Draco's arm, avoiding the scars and wounds, and he could feel breath ghost across his face. "You always do what you can, give what you have to offer. That's how I knew to come to you."

"And this? Is it because of all the same reasons; because I'm the Chosen One? I swear if you're another Romilda Vane-"

"Love Potions, Potter? Honestly, do you think I would ever stoop so pathetically low as Love Potions? This, whatever it may be, just happened. Perhaps it always was there, lying beneath the surface, but we were just too blinded by hate and envy to see it. This," Draco squeezed his hand again and leaned forward, nearly touching Harry's lips with his own. "This whole thing came of its own accord. Like I said, we are human and even in times of war we cannot help but have emotions." Draco hovered there, their lips nearly pressed together, but he didn't move towards Harry. After how quickly the brunette had vanished after their encounter the day before, he didn't want to scare him off again, though he was surprised he hadn't already.

Harry swallowed heavily. He hadn't expected to be here, wanting to feel those lips on his own again, but that was all he could think about. "A-and what is it exactly that you feel?"

Draco smirked and Harry could nearly feel it on his own skin. "I don't know, Potter, and what I do know, you already do, too."

Harry couldn't restrain himself anymore; his breath across his face, the musky smell of his sweat, their fingers pressing into each other's skin. So he took the plunge, again. He pressed their lips together. Instantly, Draco reacted. His hands ran up Harry's arms and gripped his biceps lightly as he parted his lips, running his tongue across Harry's as he had yesterday. This time, Harry moaned at the feeling as he opened his mouth and invited his tongue in with his own. Harry's hands found their way to Draco's shoulders, one trailed cautiously up to his jawline, running the length of it before resting on his cheek. Draco shivered into the touch as he deepened the kiss.

As their lips and tongues worked feverishly together, Harry couldn't suppress the small moans coming from the depths of his throat as he wanted to feel even more of Draco, wanted to map every inch of him, know every crevice. "Bloody table," Harry mumbled breathily and he felt Draco's lips curl into a smirk on his own as they continued kissing. Harry decided he had never felt anything better; the way the narrow, pink lips curled upwards like that.

Harry found himself without thought rising from his chair. He wanted so badly to feel Draco's body pressed up against him. Just as he was about to manoeuvre himself around the table's edge to him, the door to the small library opened with a creak. Harry froze, even though Draco seemed not to notice. His eyes shot open and went wide. He flew apart from Draco, shoving the blond backwards and nearly toppling his chair over as he looked towards the door to see Hermione standing there, looking horribly flushed.

"Harry, what-"

But Harry was gone. He ran as fast as he could.

Only a moment, later the occupants of Grimmauld Place heard the thunderous sound of the master bedroom door slam. Hermione rounded on Draco immediately, though she wasn't sure where to begin. The Slytherin was crossing his arms and pursing his swollen lips at her. "That is twice now you have absolutely ruined my fun."

Hermione turned from lost and embarrassed to angry in an instant. "Fun? Fun?! You think messing around with Harry's feelings like that is fun?"

Draco stood to face her. He slammed his hands down on either side of his text. "I would never play with his feelings like that. Honestly, Granger, do you think I would give away my first kiss to somebody just for fun?" he hissed.

The girl's eyes went bug-eyed for a moment. "You, you never...ever?" Draco shook his head, glaring at her. "Well can you explain to me what I just saw then? Wait,  _twice_?"

Draco grinned. "I don't think any of this is particularly mine to tell. Perhaps you should ask your Golden Boy instead of the household prisoner."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "All I wanted to come up here and tell you is that Ron and I are ready for the Wizard's Oath. I guess I got more than I bargained for."


	10. Mauvais

It was too hot. Draco couldn't sleep, he felt sticky. Instead of bothering the House Elves, he made his way weary-eyed down to the kitchens, but stilled on his way past his Father's study. The door was cracked open slightly, light pouring out. He pushed his way through the door and smiled over at his father, sitting amongst piles of paperwork at his crowded desk, his cloak sleeves rolled up as he furiously wrote. Once he noticed his seven year old son in the room, he paused, smiling achingly. "Draco, you should be in bed, it's late."

"I know, Daddy, but it's too hot, I couldn't sleep." The small boy dragged his feet over to the desk and stood beside his father, who put down his quill and placed a heavy hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Ask the House Elves to put a cooling charm on your bedroom, it should help, son." Lucius smiled warmly down at his young carbon copy and released his shoulder. As his arm moved, something on it caught the young boy's eye.

"Daddy, what's that?" Draco reached out and pointed to the marked forearm, his brows furrowed curiously.

Lucius frowned at the Dark Mark momentarily. "That, my son, is a mark I am honoured to bear. And you will be, too, one day."

* * *

"Yeah, right,  _honoured_. I wonder if you still would've praised him if you knew the man behind that mark would be the one to kill you, your wife and your son. Bloody psychopath," Draco spat beneath his breath, glaring down at his freshly wounded, barely visible Dark Mark, blood still cascading down from it. He knew this was it, the pain radiating from every pore in his body to such an extent that he nearly felt numb. Bellatrix promised he'd be begging for death... it hadn't come to that yet, although Draco could see the yearning nearing.

Voices emerged from down the corridor outside his windowless, cold stone dungeon cell. His Aunt's unmistakeable cackle reached his ears, and it made his blood run cold with venom. His hands curled into fists - he winced at the pain that even such a simple movement caused. ' _I wonder if Azkaban would be a better fate. Yes, definitely better than staying anywhere near her, but I must think of the best possible fate that could follow this Hell.'_

The door to his cell flung open, and slammed against the wall, causing dust and dirt to skirt about in his direction. Bellatrix Lestrange smirked crookedly down at her injured, weakened prisoner. She crossed her arms, her wand curled in her slender hand. "The last Malfoy heir, an itty bitty pest!" she spat and then laughed, approaching Draco who instinctively backed away from her nearing. Bellatrix had that same crazed looked in her eye. He'd asked about that look when he was young and had seen it in pictures, but it hadn't been long until he'd stopped asking.

She was lowered to his level, crouching before his slouched, barely breathing figure. Draco no longer had the energy or the care to indulge her by responding, or even scowling. It didn't matter what he did, the same result always met him; more pain, more reminders of how he had failed his parents, of how he had never gotten to tell them not only how truly sorry he was, but how much he loved them both more than anything. Balancing herself on one foot, she swiftly kicked Draco's shin, causing him to cry out. It wasn't a hard kick, but his leg had been broken two, or perhaps three, days ago, he wasn't sure, as time seemed to stand still in the depths of his own family's dungeon. Satisfaction grew on her face at his reaction, and she pushed her wand into his throat just under his jaw, forcing him to meet her gaze. When he looked at her, it was no longer with fear, or hatred or dismay, no, those emotions had fled him a week or two after his capture. Instead, he looked drained and bored.

Bellatrix leaned forward. She smelt like his Mother's perfume and it made his stomach churn, but he didn't give her the pleasure of seeing it. She was near enough to kiss him as she hissed, "You're no fun anymore, Dracey-poo! Maybe this will help... _Crucio_!"

Draco was used to this pain. In fact, he preferred it over what he knew was coming next. The Cruciatus Curse radiated like a twisting, hot explosion from his throat where her wand pressed. He was barely aware of his own cries as he arched and thrashed against his chains with the effects of the Unforgiveable coursing through him. When it finally ceased seconds, maybe minutes, later, he felt tears falling soundlessly on his cheeks. She was pouting, obviously not satisfied with the results, so maybe she would have enough of the torture soon. The tip of her wand was now pressing on the bruised skin of his forearm, between two particularly nasty gashes that were beginning to scab over. She whispered, " _Segmentium_." It was searing hot and slow as she dragged her wand down his arm, and he choked out a scream. He preferred the Cruciatus Curse indefinitely.

When she was finished, she was smiling again. She cupped Draco's whimpering face in her hands and grinned. "That's what you get for being a filthy, blood traitor, coward! Will you welcome death today, little boy?"

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Never," he croaked defiantly. She clicked her tongue and stood, turning with a swish of her cloak towards the door. Draco couldn't help but feel relieved. "That's it for today, dearest Auntie?" he asked through clenched teeth.

Bellatrix smirked over her shoulder at him. "Consider my mercy a late birthday present, dear nephew."

Once he was alone, he wasted no time in letting his sobs break through as he looked down at his tattered and torn body, new blood cascading from his forearm, covering the traces of the Dark Mark.  _'I'm going to die soon, how much more blood can my body lose? Is this really how the last of the Malfoys is going to perish? How utterly pathetic_.'

Draco recalled the night he had come here, how the pain never ended. It had lasted forever, he had been certain it was his final day on Earth, and he was surprised and appalled that Bellatrix hadn't finished him off swiftly as she had his parents. No, they got the easy way out, a simple Killing Curse for the both of them. Draco could recall the light leaving their bodies, the green flash in their eyes. Idly in the back of his head, he wondered if that's what infant Potter had seen.

Soft footsteps startled him from his thoughts. Of course he wouldn't be so lucky that that was all, or perhaps she was returning to finally end it all. But when the door opened, one of the least expected faces emerged. "S-Severus?"

Severus looked down with a horrified expression which he quickly masked. He flicked his wand, and the chains about Draco's wrists and ankles snapped open and fell to the floor. Draco went wide-eyed. "What are you doing? How are you here-"

"There is no time to explain, Draco. I would have come sooner if I could, but it was simply too dangerous. We have only a few minutes," Snape explained quickly, reaching down to the blond who attempted to bring his arms upwards but failed. He hissed and cradled his left arm. Snape frowned and bent down, scooping the boy up and supporting him, his arm underneath his shoulders.

"There's no way out, Sev. They'll have the entrance guarded like Azkaban, it's impossible-"

"Like I said, Draco, there is no time for explanations. We must be quick. Can you run?"

Draco frowned, looked down at his bent leg and slowly shook his head – he couldn't even put weight on it. Snape pointed his wand at his leg, and Draco had to bite back a scream as he heard and felt his bones crack back into place. "And here, drink this and quickly. It's a Pain Reliever, it will last long enough to get you out of here."

"What about you?" Draco asked, chugging back the liquid vial he was given without question, immediately feeling better than he had in weeks.

Snape was frowning. Even in the near darkness Draco could make it out. "There is still a lot of work to be done. There are things I must do to help end this all, I don't expect you to understand-"

"So it's true. Father suspected it, but never dare mention it to the Dark Lord. You were working for them? All that time? Was it...for _her_?"

Snape winced. "How do you have any idea-"

"I'm not a complete imbecile, Sev. Once the Dark Lord returned, I made sure these walls had ears."

Snape nodded slowly. There weren't many things Lucius Malfoy didn't know, as that man had made it his business to know the dirty secrets of all those around him - it was one of the ways he and the generations before him had climbed as high as they had. "Now quickly. You know the fireplace in your Father's office, the one in the South Wing? You do know it's-"

"A faux fireplace, leads to a room where only a true Malfoy can go into. You do know this is my house?" he drawled.

"Go to it. I have ensured a clear path, but you only have minutes left. Four minutes after you leave this cell I will lower the wards around the Manor, but only for one minute. Do you understand me? You must Apparate within that minute."

"But where, Sev? Where can I Apparate to, where I can be safe?"

Snape shoved a piece of paper into Draco's hand. "Once you're in the room, read that. There are wards around his house as well, but this will get you close."

"His? Who is he, exactly? And can I trust him, are you certain?"

"It's either him or the werewolf, your choice, Malfoy," Severus hissed and Draco knew. His eyes went wide at his Godfather's scowl.

"No, no! There's no way! He hates me, he'll kill me on the spot, I can't!"

Draco was being shaken now. Severus' hands were clutched on his shoulders as he glared down at him. "He is your only hope and if I know Potter, he will do whatever it takes so long as it's the right thing to do. Now hurry, we're wasting time!" He shoved Draco towards the door. The blond stumbled at first. He hadn't walked in weeks, his limbs felt like they had no idea what to do.

He smiled thankfully at the worn looking man. "Sev-"

"I know, Draco. Now go."

So he ran. He ran like he never had before, his eyes darting around each corner he turned. He knew the quickest way to the particular study Snape was talking about. He ignored the nostalgia running through him as he thought this would be the last time he would ever set sights on his own home. Once he entered the study he suddenly feared, he realised had no wand. But then, he caught a glimpse of it on the mantle place. He smirked. Of course Severus would have thought of it before hand. He clutched his wand like a lifeline and stepped through the faux flames of the fire, into an open, expansive room. These days it didn't hold much. He recalled many more things being stowed away there as a child, but now it was barren.

Draco cast a tempus spell, as he waited with baited breath. One more minute before the wards would be lifted. "So, Potter is going to be my better fate after Hell. How bloody perfect," he spat to himself in bemusement. The time came, and he felt the wards being lifted. He took a deep breath. "Here goes everything." With a loud crack, he disappeared and landed in Little Whinging, Surrey.

* * *

Fifteen year old Draco pressed his ear up against a shell in his bedroom. It was a spell he had learned whilst at Hogwarts; he enchanted it so that he could hear from its counterpart which was currently lying underneath his Father's desk in his main study. After the Triwizard Tournament, things were different at home, people kept coming and going and Draco had to stay in his bedroom almost always, only having his Mother for company telling him that soon, one day, he'd understand why. He knew why. The Dark Lord truly had returned. His Father was a Death Eater. For some reason, it didn't fully sit right with him, but he was taught that he should be proud of the fact. That one day, all that would be left would be Death Eaters and their kin.

"What is it you want, Wormtail?" Lucius spat wearily.

"H-his cauldron, sir! He needs it back! He's so pleased you kept it safe all these years!" Wormtail's voice was quivering, and he sounded humbly fearful.

"Of course, if it is what he possesses I shall bring it to hi-"

"No need, sir, I will-"

A loud slam. Draco winced, as it echoed in his ear. "Do not interrupt me whilst I am speaking, you pathetic rodent!" Lucius snapped, and then sighed, "I will bring Mauvais the cauldron this evening, Wormtail, you may go."

"The Dark Lord, he doesn't like being called that you know-"

"I said GO, Wormtail!" Lucius demanded.

Draco slowly pulled the shell from his ear, his eyes wide. He wasn't the cleverest in his year, so much as he would like to boast that he was, but he wasn't stupid, either. He was rubbish at Defence Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration, but had an aptitude for Charms, Curses, Potions and reading. Especially the latter since the beginning of that summer. It wasn't many months before that when he had come across the name 'Mauvais'.

"No. That can't be right. I must be delusional. Mother's right, I really should just concentrate on my potions." Draco shook his head and put the shell back on his desk. Though he forgot about it that day, he never knew how helpful the mere mention of that name would be in the years to come.

 


	11. Marked

"Are you certain, Harry?" Hermione asked slowly, peering over the brunette's shoulder at the scripted contract on the drawing room table.

Ron was sitting in the chair beside his friend, arms crossed, and glowering in the direction of the Slytherin sitting across from his best friend. "Yeah, mate, you do know you're about to make a Wizard's Oath with the Ferret?" he spat. Draco narrowed his eyes at Ron, but didn't respond.

Harry sighed, reaching for his wand which he had placed beside the parchment. "I'm certain," he said slowly, "This is best for all of us. He'll tell us everything he knows, do you have any idea how valuable that is?"

"But do you expect us to feel safe after this? I mean, he's promising to keep you out of harm's way, but not us. What if the bastard kills us in our sleep?" Ron accused. Part of the deal was that after the Oath, Draco was free to keep his wand, free to do as he pleased, so long as he stayed with Harry.

Harry shook his head. "He won't."

"How can you know that?"

"Because I trust him," Harry said plainly, looking across at Draco's piercing grey eyes. The blond nodded, as if in thanks, and Harry merely allowed a small reassuring smile. "Are you certain?"

"I said it before, Harry, and I will say it again. My mind will be yours to open. You even have my permission to use Legilimancy after this Oath," he reminded him, picking up his own wand, preparing to sign the contract.

Hermione and Ron's faces turned dumbstruck. "Legilimancy? You would let Harry do that to you?" Hermione asked.

Draco nodded, his eyes never leaving Harry's. "Yes, in a second and without a thought. I have nothing to hide from him."

His words caused Harry to blush which he hid, lowering his head. Ron, however, was still weary. "But you have something to hide from us?"

"I do not trust you, Weasel. Perhaps I do Granger, but most certainly not you. When I came for sanctuary and to offer my assistance, it was only for him, never for the two of you."

"Can we please just get this over with?"

Draco leaned across the table at that, his eyebrow slightly raised. "Eager to bind yourself to me, Potter?"

Harry was turning red again, but he ignored it. Hermione noticed his discomfort and cleared her throat. "You have your witnesses, we've already signed, Harry, Draco, when you're ready," she instructed.

Both boys took a deep breath before raising their own wands and pressing it to the bottom of the parchment. " _Scribus Juror_ ," it was Harry who said it first, Draco following soon after. After their words were spoken, ink was conjured from the tips of their wands which they pressed onto the page, their names magically appearing after a moment.

Suddenly, they both felt a jolt pass through them, like a slight pulse of electricity. It shook them, and their eyes became wide as they looked at one another. It soon dissipated. "Is that it?" Harry asked, confused, feeling as if there would be more to it than that.

Draco slowly nodded and began to pull up his right sleeve. "There should be a mark somewhere indicating the Oath. Each of our initials. It's usually on the arm that the Oath was bound with, somewhere - ah, there it is." He pointed to the underside of his right wrist, where like a new scar, the letters HJP were scripted almost minutely into his skin.

Harry quickly looked in the same spot to see the initials DLM. "You didn't disclose that! Is this permanent?"

Draco grinned and nodded. "It will fade once the Oath is either broken or another contract is written to end it. Embarrassed, Potter, that everybody who sees it will know you're mine?"

It was both Hermione and Harry who shifted uncomfortably at the words, Ron, however, was red in the face with anger. "Why didn't you tell us that, Malfoy?! Now Harry's gotta-"

"It's okay, Ron. You can hardly see it, look," Harry offered Ron his wrist who glared down at the initials.

Smiling smugly, Draco leaned back in his seat. "It may be hard to see, but you know it's there, Harry. My name in your skin. How does that make you feel, Harry?" his voice was soft, slightly prodding, causing Harry's skin to turn red against his will once more. Hermione cleared her throat again, drawing the attention back to her.

"I will keep the contracts safe. But for now, I think you have a story to tell, Malfoy."

"I guess it seems that I do. It will be a long one, I am afraid. It starts in my eleventh year..."

* * *

"Father, where are we going?" Draco asked, trailing close behind Lucius' billowing cloak, his Mother beside him looking taut.

"Draco darling, how would you feel about going to the Quidditch World Cup this year?" Narcissa asks softly, but the eleven year old boy is not as slow as his parents hope him to be. He knows they just want to distract him. This was supposed to be a family trip, but he knew it was much more than that. It had to do with his Father's unspeakable work and the unspeakable men that came late at night to his house.

Lucius looked outwards across a long sea of water, his wand raised, as his wife and child came to stand before him. His face was wrinkled, showing more signs of age each day, and it unnerved Draco deeply. This was the fourth family trip of the year, two more than usual, and they were always to odd places where his Father did the same thing. He father whispered beneath his breath, revealing a ward, and his stoic expression turned into a small, satisfied smirk. He lowered his wand and turned to his son, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Draco we-"

"Weren't here. Yeah, I know," Draco interrupted wearily.

They returned home a few days later, but Draco's mood hadn't improved. He hated being kept in the dark, he was old enough to know now. Ever since he was seven and saw the Dark Mark, his Father had cut him off from everything. He wanted to be a part of it, he wanted to help in any way he could, he wanted to contribute to the family business - whatever it may be. Draco knew whatever it was, it was something to be proud of.

He was sitting in his own personal study, just across the hall from his bedroom. It was nearly identical to his Father's, just much smaller and filled with study books and some fictions Draco read for pleasure. Draco ran his hand along the spines of the texts of his bookshelf, briefly stopping at the Tales of Beedle the Bard. He smiled softly. He could recall the fading memory of his Mother reading it to him every night. Yet, she would always skip one particular story. When he could read well enough on his own, he read it to himself, perplexed as to why she never read it to him. When he asked, he was never directly answered.

"Was Goyle successful in his excursions?" Lucius' voice was heard from the hallway, and Draco paused and strained his ear. They were talking about his friend's Father, but why?

"Very. I take it you were as well." It was Theodore Nott's Father speaking, that much Draco could recognize, but there were more feet in the corridor than their own.

"Indeed, they are safe, everything is at it should be."

"Then that makes six."

"Six? Perhaps you mean seven. Has Wormtail done his duty and checked on the boy?"

There was silence for a moment, as the feet came to a halt not far from Draco's miniature study. "There seems to have been a complication. He has been relocated, although temporarily, it seems."

"Relocated? Where?"

"That is the complication. Wormtail doesn't seem privy to that knowledge."

Draco could practically hear his Father sneer. "That is simply unacceptable. All Horcruxes must be kept safe! Including the boy, until his time comes. Until he returns," Lucius was speaking icily between clenched teeth.

"I assure you he is safe, he is with his Muggles. Perhaps a vacation of sorts," Nott offered, attempting to soothe the anger of his superior.

"See to it Wormtail finds him-"

"You know he cannot. He cannot run off so often, he must remain in his place with that ghastly family," Nott reminded him.

Lucius paused. "Crabbe then, you shall see to it that the Potter boy is secure."

"Yes sir. And the Professor-" The voices trailed off, as the feet began to move again.

Draco stood stark still, shocked at his own ears. He wasn't a fool. He knew what his Father's line of work was, he had learned of it years before, not long after he first caught sight of the Dark Mark. But now his head was reeling. It didn't make sense to him, what was a Horcrux? Why did it sound so familiar? His thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at the study door.

"Draco darling, it's time for dinner."

"Yes," he managed to croak, "Coming, Mother."

* * *

A series of broken stories and many pots of tea later, Draco felt tired of talking. "That's sick," Harry finally spoke, a little bitterness in his voice. Everybody looked over to him, surprised. "I mean, your Father bringing you to all the locations of the Horcruxes, that's sickening. What kind of Father would bring their own child into that?"

"One that believed he was doing what was best for his family. And doing his duty. I think he wanted me to see them, hoping one day it would be me that would take his place, to keep Riddle and his secrets safe," Draco said tightly. He thought his Father a fool now for falling for such a crazed man.

The four were quiet for a few moments, taking everything in. The locations of the Horcruxes, what they were, how Draco had slowly, over his years at the Manor, come to learn of their whereabouts. Of how he, on his own, after many years of contemplations, came to the conclusions of the Deathly Hallows.

"I can be humble now. I was never truly clever, but nor was I a fool."

Ron scoffed at the blond's words, but Draco merely inhaled sharply and continued. "It took me awhile, but I pieced it all together. Michael Mauvais is the last piece of the puzzle for me to complete."

"Are you certain it was Mauvais that you heard?" Hermione asked slowly, "I know Voldemort has many names but...are you absolutely certain Mauvais is one of them?"

Draco looked seriously over at her. "Deadly. I have come to the conclusion that the Tales of Beedle the Bard is not the only fairy tale book that is actually completely true."

"I don't quite follow, who is Mauvais? I understand you think he is Voldemort, but what story is he from, what is he?" Harry asked slowly.

"I  _know_  he is Mauvais, it was on more than one occasion that I heard my Father utter the name. In his presence, as well." Draco shivered at the memory of it, his encounters with the Dark Lord himself were different stories for another day and particularly unimportant to those of his childhood, of all the conversations he overheard.

"Michael Mauvais is from a short story by H.P Lovecraft, a Muggle author, though I am beginning to think not even that is true," Hermione said slowly, "A story called The Alchemist."

"What was it about? What did this Mauvais character have to do with it?" Ron asked.

Draco pursed his lips. "The Alchemist was a great Potions Master, and a great Wizard. Greater than any of his time. Which was nearly three hundred years ago."

Harry's eyes went wide. "Are you insinuating that Voldemort is three hundred years old? That's insane!"

"Is it? Nicolas Flemmel was nearly seven hundred," Draco countered. "In any case, I am not insinuating, I am saying that he most certainly  _is_. Mauvais was a dark Potions Master, obsessed with eternal life however he may come by it. He tried every possible curse, spell, hex and ritual he could think of. Yet, it was in old dark magic that he found the secrets to it. A Potion, of sorts, hence why he is named The Alchemist. Though which Potion and the contents of it are beyond my comprehension which is why I have been researching, trying to figure out what that man could have brewed to actually grant himself eternal life."

"But what about Riddle? I mean, he had parents and all. He was a boy, once. He can't have been a boy if he was that old!" Harry exclaimed.

Draco frowned. "That is also another uncertain piece of the puzzle, Harry. I think, perhaps, though Mauvais is eternal, his body never has been and that is what he means to achieve now, with this War, so he doesn't have to go through with another transformation."

"Transformation?" It was Ron who asked.

"It's just a theory, a strong one but still just a theory. When Mauvais' body dies, is murdered or just expires naturally, I feel as though his soul searches for the nearest living creature to latch onto. Unfortunately for him, I do believe he latched onto a boy, Tom Marvolo Riddle, many years ago. A baby whose mind was too simple to fully comprehend everything he was and had done. With his time at Hogwarts, I believe the memories came to him, slowly but surely they were restored, and somewhere he learned of his own true identity, of his own abilities," Draco explained, he was tired of storytelling for one day and found himself stifling a yawn.

Hermione sighed, "But if he truly is Mauvais, if the Alchemist truly exists, how in the world will we ever stop him, even if we do destroy all of the Horcruxes?"

Draco looked at Harry seriously, ignoring the other two Gryffindors at his side. "With Dark Magic. Old magic that has since been lost to us."

"That can't be safe, or possible!" Ron exclaimed; this was all too ludicrous.

"Neither can finding and destroying all the Horcruxes and yet, here we are," Draco returned.

They sat in silence for a few moments, no one moving and each with their own thoughts. Finally, Harry broke it, sighing heavily and placing his head in his hands. "I can't even think properly anymore."

Draco found himself smirking in his direction. "Ah, but this is where I come in. Or my Father, rather."

"What do you mean? But your Father is..." Harry trailed off quietly, looking apologetically over at the blond.

"Dead. Yes, I know. But it's his possessions that will help us now."

"You cannot seriously be suggesting that!" Hermione said in disbelief. Draco raised an eyebrow at her.

"Suggesting what, exactly?" Ron questioned.

Draco grinned. "I think it's about time I went home."

Hermione and Ron were looking at him incredulously, as if he had gone insane, as if the idea in itself was insane. Harry, however, looked perplexed and worried. Something unnerved him more than it should about going to Malfoy Manor, he knew it couldn't be a good idea. "Harry, 'Mione, I think we should talk. Privately," Ron added, narrowing his eyes at Draco who smirked and crossed his arms in his chair.

"I'm sorry, but I don't see that happening. You see, because of the Oath, Harry cannot be separated from me."

Harry groaned. "Damn. I guess I didn't really look that far into that one."

Draco smirked. "No, you did not. I think perhaps it is because the thought of it didn't quite bother you," he offered, a sly smile growing on his lips. Harry flushed and looked away from him, catching Ron's bewildered and confused look.

"I think I've enough Malfoy for one day as it is. I'm going to ask Kreacher to fix us something," Ron said suddenly. Hermione looked at him sternly and he blushed. "What! We can't keep working on empty stomachs now can we?"

"That'd be great, Ron, we'll be up in the library, then. I think we need to look into this whole Mauvais character a little more," Harry concluded. Ron nodded and with one more fleeting, mistrusting look at Draco, he turned to leave the room.

Hermione wasted no time rounding on both Draco and Harry, looking at her best friend who seemed to be utterly fascinated by the mark of the other's initials in the flesh of his wrist and the Slytherin who couldn't stop staring at Harry.

"Right, now hurry up and talk, Harry," Hermione said immediately once Ron was well out of ear shot.

Harry looked up at her. "Hm? About what?" he asked innocently.

"I think she wants to know why you were ravishing me earlier, Potter," Draco offered, smirking triumphantly as red crept up both Hermione and Harry's faces. "I do believe it's because your Golden Boy here finally noticed how dashing I really am. Couldn't resist me, isn't that right, Harry?"

Harry looked up from his wrist and was glaring daggers at Draco. "Shut up, Malfoy. You know that's not what that was."

"Oh?" Draco leaned on the table now with his elbows, his eyes burning holes into Harry. "But isn't it?"

Hermione shifted uncomfortably and tried her best to ignore Draco. "Harry," she started softly. "Please, you can tell me anything."

Harry sighed, defeated. "How am I supposed to tell you what I don't know myself?"

She was sitting next to Harry now, her hand on his arm, and he jumped at the contact. "Harry," she said slowly, reassuringly. He knew she needed an explanation and he had to give her one, he just wasn't sure he even had one.

"Malfoy –  _Draco_ ," Harry corrected himself, and the blond looked at him with a raised eyebrow, "Could you erm, give us as much privacy as the Oath makes it possible to give us?"

Draco seemed to pout, but quickly pulled his face into a tight mask and nodded. He slowly stood up from the table, but before he walked to the far side of the room, he leant across at Harry and looked at him intensely. "Don't forget, Potter, you're mine now." He grinned with satisfaction at the horrified, embarrassed look on the brunette's face as Draco motioned to his own wrist with Harry's initials on it. He turned and walked over to the mantle place in the drawing room, pretending to look particularly interested in the dust lying on top of it.

Harry sighed and turned to Hermione. He lifted his wand and quickly cast a Muffiliato Charm, much to Draco's dismay. "I'm not sure where to start, Hermione," he began slowly. It was going to be a long evening of explanations.

 


	12. Without Reason

Hermione looked between Harry and Draco, unsure of what to think and where to go from there. "Listen, I understand you trust him, but-"

"I know, I know. You can't," Harry sighed. He understood why she would be so weary. "I can't explain any of it, not in any way that makes sense. 'Mione, I'm so bloody confused and tired of thinking about it, because trust me, it's all I've done," he admitted.

She felt for him, she truly did, but as she glanced over at the blond attempting to distract himself from trying to hear through the Muffliato Charm, she couldn't fathom how Harry found him attractive in any way other than in the physical sense. Hermione had been given the quick review of events that had occurred between Harry and Draco, what led them where they were. "I can't trust him yet, Harry, but if he deserves it, he will earn my faith in time. I just don't want you to get hurt, that's all." She reached out and put her hand on his comfortingly, and Harry looked startled by the touch before smiling softly up at her.

"Thanks. This is going to sound mad, but I don't think Draco has the capacity to hurt me like he used to." Harry blushed at his own words, but he knew they were true.

"The more you care about a person, the more they can hurt you. It's not about what I think he'll do to you, it's about who he is-"

"He is not his father," Harry cut her off and retracted his hand. Hermione looked momentarily hurt before her frown deepened.

"I know, but that doesn't change who he is. He's a wanted man. He's done things, even if he never wanted to play a part, and he has a gigantic responsibility in all of this."

"Yes, I know," Harry bit out, "But I think what he's doing is more than making up for it. He could just as easily have gone into hiding, but instead, he's helping in every way he can."

Hermione's frown slowly turned upwards into a half smile. "I know," she patted Harry gently on the shoulder, standing from her chair and casting one more long glance at Draco's back. "Just be careful, alright? And the sooner you talk to Ron, the better, you know how much I hate secrets."

Harry nodded slowly. "I promise I'll tell him as soon as I..." he swallowed and glanced shyly over at Draco who was now leaning against an armchair lazily, pretending to find particular interest in the ghastly wallpaper. "As soon as I figure out how to make sense of  _him_."

Hermione smiled. "You'll figure it out. For now, why don't we try to concentrate on the task at hand? I fear this new Mauvais information we have gained is just going to complicate things."

Harry frowned, feeling suddenly heavy at the mere mention of it. They had a plan for the Horcruxes, a hazy one, but it was still a plan. But what were four teenagers supposed to do about an immortal Alchemist? Yes, he'd much rather concentrate his thoughts on the befuddling and slightly terrifying feelings for Draco that swam in his head. Although he knew that wasn't quite an option.

Once Hermione left them, Harry lifted the Muffliato Charm and unlike what he had expected, he wasn't immediately ambushed. Instead, upon noticing Hermione's absence, Draco turned to leave the room, only shortly calling over his shoulder, "Come on then, those books are not going to read themself, Potter."

Harry reluctantly followed a few steps behind him, feeling uncomfortable. He was never sure of how to read Draco and if he was to be honest with himself, he didn't think he would ever fully be able to read that boy. He had spent a lifetime masking and perfecting how to convey emotions.

As soon as Harry closed the door to the small study, he turned around to find his personal space suddenly invaded. Harry sucked in a sharp breath. Draco had him pinned to the other side of the door, his narrowed, inquiring grey eyes peering down at Harry, making him squirm. Draco's wand was drawn. He whispered beneath his breath and Harry heard the door lock.

Harry took a deep steadying breath, but found it didn't help. Draco dropped his wand to the ground with a soft clatter. Harry felt his palms beginning to sweat and he couldn't find the courage to move. He tried with all his strength to speak, but as he opened his mouth, Draco pressed his lips against him.

Draco's hands were pressed onto Harry's hips, holding him to the door, as the blond urged his lean body up against him. His heart was racing, Harry could feel it, beating almost as fast his own. He was too stunned to respond, but his mouth remained open and he couldn't seem to bring himself to protest against Draco's tongue sliding into his mouth.

Finally, after a long minute of unresponsiveness, Harry brought his hands up to Draco's chest and gently pushed him backwards. He hung his head, refusing to look up at those grey eyes, knowing he'd be lost in the storm of them, and all reason would flood from his head. Draco pursed his wet lips and crossed his arms, turning his back to the brunette and stalking to the other side of the room.

"Draco, I-" Harry's words dried in his throat when Draco turned back to look at him, appearing genuinely hurt.

"No, I get it, Potter," Draco snapped icily.

Harry looked confused. "Do you?"

"Yes. It's because I am a Malfoy," he ground out.

"Well, I can't lie and say that's certainly not part of it, but...I know you better than that now. Listen, Draco, it's honestly that I-I really don't understand what this is," Harry admitted slowly.

"I thought we already had this bloody conversation," Draco hissed. He obviously didn't take even a slight rejection very well.

Harry sighed and crossed the room towards the blond, who merely stiffened when he reached out and tentatively placed a hand on his forearm. When Draco looked up at Harry, he saw hope in his eyes and it truly startled him. "Draco, it's just too fast. I don't even know how I feel. I know I care for you. That I'm worried. That I'm glad you're here. But I can't make sense of much more than that."

"Neither can I, Harry. We're at war here, we don't have much time to waste on waiting to figure it all out."

"So that's what this is? I'm a good snog to hold you over 'til I kill Riddle, or Mauvais, whoever he is!" Harry was suddenly enraged at the thought of it.

Draco quickly reached out, hands on Harry's biceps, gripping them lightly. "No. I did not mean it like it sounded, Merlin, Potter," his hands dropped and he turned away from him again, only to lean up against the library table. "Could you stop thinking like that and grow up?" He sighed heavily, "Listen, I nearly died last month and I am terrified of crossing that line after life. Now that I have a second chance, I want to do what's right and I also don't want to waste time questioning what I want when it's so damn obvious! Who cares about the why when we know the what?"

Harry was taken aback by Draco admitting his fear. It took him a moment to recover, before he asked him quietly, "And _what_ do you want?"

"For whatever sick, twisted reason fate or coincidence had in mind - I want  _you_ , Harry. However you will take me," Draco was speaking quietly, but his words were confident, as he looked up slowly through his lashes at Harry and didn't allow his eyes to waver. Harry was impressed by the courage, courage he was certain only Gryffindors were supposed to have.

 _'So where's my bloody courage, hmm?'_ Harry accused himself. With a deep, shaking breath, Harry took a step forward. He paused to look seriously at Draco's calculating face before speaking resolutely. "Then take me."

At first, surprise and alarm crossed the blond's pale features, but it was soon replaced by a curling smirk. That same smirk that he used to loathe, now enraptured Harry. All he wanted to do was feel it against his lips again.

This time, when their lips met, it was unlike their earlier shared kisses. It was hungrier, the will and want stronger, more determined. Harry was the first to automatically push his tongue into Draco's mouth. Draco sighed and relaxed into the sensation of being thoroughly kissed, as his hands ran up the side of Harry's torso and back down again, feeling his contours. Harry's own hands became lost in that silky hair. He was amazed that something could feel so soft. As he closed the distance fully between them, he somehow straddled one of Draco's legs, his own thigh pressed up against the blond's groin, and as he leaned further in to deeper their kiss, he heard something that sounded like music to his ears. Draco moaned into his mouth. Draco's hands paused in their ministrations as he exhaled hot breath into Harry, before roughly grabbing him by his hips and forcing all of Harry's body back onto himself. Harry gasped at the sudden pull, but soon found his own excited groin pressed into Draco. He gripped his hair accidentally a little too hard and heard Draco hiss at the slight pain.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled in between kissing him. And then Draco was smirking against his lips again for a moments time before he gripped Harry hard by the shoulders and with all of his strength he flipped their positions.

Harry looked up surprised as Draco was smirking devilishly down at him, he paused in their snogging session to lean back and take Harry's swollen lips and blushing face into account. His eyes raked over Harry, causing the brunette to squirm, before he quickly leaned in again and devoured his mouth. Harry found himself gripping onto Draco's shirt, lost in his lips and his touch.

Harry knew this was against all better judgement and reason but he found himself thinking,  _'Fuck reason. We're at War.'_

With his grip on his shirt, Harry pulled Draco down onto himself. Harry never kissed somebody so hard in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deeply sorry for the delay in update, the next should be on its way tomorrow evening if not before then! After that, however, it may be a week or so before I get to update again - a little family crisis occurred, but once my daughter is feeling better I will be writing away! ^_^ P.S. Reviews are much loved and all hail Michy for her Beta-ing !


	13. Outed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies. The passed few chapters have been short. I promise for a lengthy chapter fourteen...it just might take awhile for the update, a week or two. Until then, enjoy! Also, a continuous million thanks to Michy, my great Beta.

In the days to follow, Grimmauld Place was in an odd, silent state of stasis. Hermione couldn't bring herself to acknowledge Draco directly, Harry himself couldn't bear to look at him around his friends, and all three of them seemed to have taken an oath of silence. Ron, on the other hand, was beginning to feel stir crazy.

Their plans were falling into place to retrieve Helga Hufflepuff's Cup from the Lestrange vault. The only reason Draco was certain of that particular location was due to the fact he had gone with his Mother and Aunt there, just as his Father had, to secure its safety over the years of Voldemort's dormancy. Once again, it would be just Ron and Hermione, as Harry and Draco were bound to one another's company. The four were currently sitting in the library. Harry was staring at the pages in Magick Moste Evile, barely even recognizing the words anymore. Ron was playing Wizard's Chess with himself, mumbling nonsensically beneath his breath every few minutes, and the other two were pouring over their respective areas of study; Hermione obsessing over finding a way to destroy the Horcruxes and Draco dedicating his energy to figuring out what it was that Michael Mauvais had allegedly brewed to become immortal.

Suddenly, Draco reached out over top of the table, his hand grasping for Harry's. Harry was surprised and slightly alarmed; their relationship, whatever it was, never went beyond snogging sessions in a locked room. This was the first time since his conversation with Hermione that they were touching in public. With wide eyes, Harry peered at Draco, who was much paler than usual, his grey eyes wide.

"Draco?" Harry asked slowly.

"I found it," he responded shakily, each word sounding laboured.

Everybody's attention was drawn to them. Ron, however, had his eyes trained on the blond's hand placed neatly overtop of Harry's. "Found what?" Hermione asked, standing from her chair and hurrying over, grabbing the book from Draco. She read it quickly and gasped. "You found it!"

"I found what Mauvais brewed. I cannot be definite, but-"

"No, this is it, I'm sure. But I've never seen anything like this before," Hermione whispered, furrowing her brows at the pages.

"That would be because it is truly dark and ancient magic, Granger, nothing like we are taught at school," Draco explained. He still had a slightly shocked expression on his face.

"Who would do this just for immortality?" Hermione asked, sounding sickened and running her eyes up and down the two pages encompassing the potion again.

"Voldemort, that's who," Harry muttered darkly. "That's fantastic that you found it, but now what're we supposed to do?"

Draco rolled his eyes, finally sliding his stoic mask over his shock. "Bloody miracle how you ever made it to Sixth Year, Potter," he sneered. Harry glared at him. "All Potions have a counter. Just like every spell has its counter."

"That's not true, The Killing Curse doesn't-"

"Doesn't it?" Draco cut him off, looking pointedly at his forehead. "Even if it was not the case, this Potion does indeed have a counter."

"All we have to do is find it and hope it's not nearly as horrible as this," Hermione said, sitting down in the seat next to Draco now.

"Unfortunately, your hope is in vain. This is the darkest of magic, but luckily enough for you, you have me," Draco was smirking now and propped up his free arm on the table, leaning towards Harry whose breath caught in his throat as Draco's grip tightened on his hand still lying still on the table. "I have not ever considered myself to be the best in our year at any subject-"

"Pfft," Ron snorted, receiving a glare from both Draco and Harry which startled him back into silence, eyes falling to their hands once more.

"-but I am the best Potions Master Hogwarts has ever seen since Snape himself. That is a guarantee," he said smugly.

Hermione shook her head. "I can even say that's true, but even Snape couldn't counter this, Malfoy."

Draco's smirk was widening now. "Snape doesn't have what I do; my Father's library."

"You're not suggesting we go to Malfoy Manor again, are you?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Your two little friends are about to Polyjuice themselves, walk right into Gringott's and break into my dearest Aunt's vault, and yet going home is out of the question? Trust me, Harry, there are books and ingredients there that will give us exactly what we need to bring this bastard down!" Draco argued. He had been pushing on them to go to Malfoy Manor for a few days now, and Ron was most especially uncomfortable with the idea.

"It's Death Eater headquarters, Malfoy. We wouldn't make it out of there alive, either of us!" Harry exclaimed, the thought of bringing Draco back to that place wholly unsettling.

"Is it? Do you really think once the place was found penetrable due to my escape that they would stay there? Of course there will be surveillance, a few lower caste Death Eaters, but I can be certain lovely Bella and her cronies have dispersed," he ground out. "But that's not it. Turn five pages back, Granger."

Hermione did as she was told and gasped for a second time. "Draco," she whispered, everybody slightly shocked to hear her using his first name, "Do you think this could work?"

Draco nodded. "I think it most certainly can. It is just the ingredients that will be difficult to collect. It is another Potion, one I do believe could easily destroy the Horcruxes. It translates here to be called the Brew of Death's Soul."

"What do you mean translates?" Harry asked slowly.

"Did you think a text about potions this ancient would be in English? It's all Latin," Draco shrugged, then seeing Harry's surprised look, countered it with his own. "Can't you read Latin?"

Hermione rolled her eyes this time. "I tried to tell them it's very useful for Arithmancy, Ancient Runes and so much more, but they never bothered," she shook her head.

"That's because Latin is bloody boring," Ron muttered, still oddly quiet and transfixed.

"I'll make the list of ingredients. You can make a list of what you think you'll need to make it," Hermione said and then looked up, smiling thankfully at the Slytherin, "Thank you Draco, this is exactly what we needed."

Draco nodded slowly. "We are for the same cause, the sooner that bastard is in the ground, the better."

"Who wrote this book, anyway?" Harry asked.

"H.P Lovecraft, of course, who else would be twisted enough to discover and invent these types of brews?" Draco smirked at Harry's surprised expression. "Now do you believe me that he is anything but a Muggle?"

"Shove off, Malfoy," Harry mumbled and then turned to Hermione. "What can we do to help?" he gestured between himself and Ron.

"How about before we start helping, somebody bloody well explains to me what exactly is going on here?" Ron finally asked beneath his breath, his voice sounding strained.

Everyone looked at him inquiringly, before they followed his glaring gaze. Harry jumped away from Draco's touch, as if he had been suddenly burnt and he looked confusedly at his friend. "N-nothing," he stammered.

Draco raised his eyebrow and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms across his chest as Hermione looked nervously between her best friend and Ron. "The War, Potter, we're not guaranteed to survive it. It is up to you whether or not you wish to waste your time-"

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry snapped beneath his breath. They hadn't spoken about anything between them. Most of what occurred was just snogging and then ignoring that it happened immediately afterwards.

"No, Harry, waste your time with what, exactly? What's Malfoy on about and would somebody please bloody tell me why you and fucking Malfoy of all damn people were just  _holding hands_?!" Ron's voice was rising now, his face turning red as he was slowly standing up from his chair, looking accusingly at the other boys in the room before turning on Hermione. "'Mione, don't tell me you didn't see that?"

Hermione pursed her lips but didn't say a word, causing Ron to groan, "This isn't news to you? Well it sure as hell is news to me! What the devil is going on here? Somebody, tell me or I swear I will-" Ron was reaching for his wand, no doubt to point it at Draco, but the blond was faster and already had his drawn as he was suddenly standing and the tip of his wand was directed at his chest.

Draco narrowed his eyes dangerously. "Once again, or what, Weasel? If you become between what is me and mine I will have your head," he growled.

"You and  _yours_?"

" _Excuse me_?" Ron and Harry both spoke and once, equally enraged. Harry was on his feet and glaring at Draco all of a sudden. "I'm not a fucking trophy, Malfoy!"

"That is not what I meant and you know it!" Draco countered heatedly.

Harry took a deep steadying breath and turned to leave from the room, but the moment he swung the door open and exited, he and Draco both felt an excruciating pain jolt through their bodies, extending from the marks on their wrists. Harry fell to the floor and hissed, Hermione immediately at his side. "Fucking Oath," Harry muttered between breaths, and he begrudgingly allowed himself to be escorted back into the room, only to keep as far away from Draco as possible.

"Harry, could you please just explain to me what I saw because I feel like I'm going mad here, I mean maybe I am - I was just so certain I saw you two holding hands," Ron said quietly, approaching his friend who had his arms crossed and was looking dejectedly off into space.

Draco was pursing his lips and watching the scene, but was soon distracted by Hermione, whose hand lightly graced his forearm. "Come on, Malfoy, we have work to do," she said softly and Draco huffed before he huddled reluctantly closer to Hermione to mull over the text.

"Ron," Harry turned to his best friend slowly. "You feel like you're going mad? I feel like I should be locked up in St Mungo's."

"Mate, don't tell me..." Ron took a steadying breath, "Are you trying to tell me you actually like the bastard? How in Merlin's beard did that happen?"

Harry shrugged. "If I knew, I would tell you, Ron. And if I knew why, I would tell you that, too. He's such an ass most of the time, but..." he trailed off, flushing, looking over his shoulder at Draco, and found that despite his earlier outburst, a smile was creeping up his face.

Ron's eyes went wide. "You really do like him. Bloody hell," he whispered in disbelief. "How long?"

"I dunno. Maybe since you two went to the Ministry," Harry offered. He truly didn't know himself.

"When he pulled that bollocks on all of us and seriously messed up our plans at getting the Horcrux?" Ron asked incredulously.

"Apparently he was just concerned. He said he couldn't let me go and risk myself like that," Harry mumbled.

"Harry, do you have any idea how insane that sounds, only because it's Malfoy we're talking about here?"

"I know," he sounded defeated.

"How long for him then?" Ron asked slowly.

Harry shrugged. "When I asked, he said he wasn't sure. Perhaps always," he found himself turning red at his own words, especially as he saw Ron's eyes grow incredibly wide.

"And so he treats us all like dirt for six years because he likes you? Harry, this whole thing is seriously messed up, mate."

"Don't I know it," Harry muttered in agreement. "You're not mad, then?"

Ron looked seriously at his best friend. "I dunno, I think I sorta am. I mean, I'm your best mate and you couldn't tell me?"

"Ron, I don't even understand what's happening myself."

"But Hermione, she knew," Ron returned pointedly.

Harry sighed. "Er, well...she kinda saw some things..."

Ron sputtered. "I don't even wanna know." He put his hands up and shook his head. "It's just that it's him, y'know? He is a right Hippogriff's ass and I don't think I can ever bring myself to trust him. Or even begin to like him, especially after what he's done to us, after what he's said to 'Mione all these years."

"I'm not asking you to trust him, I'm asking you to trust me."

"Does this mean you're gay?" Ron asked suddenly, as if it had just struck him.

Harry opened and closed his mouth. "I-I never really thought about it...I guess, sort of. Maybe. I don't know. Is that the problem?"

Ron shook his head quickly. "You know, Charlie..." he trailed off and Harry nodded. "What about Ginny?" he asked softly.

"What about her?" Harry sounded truly oblivious.

"Mate, she's had it in for you for years. Since she met you."

"Ron, your sister is a great girl, but you're like a brother to me, you know?"

"Yeah, I guess that would have been kind of odd," he sighed. "I think I'm just going to need sometime, Harry, to digest it all." Ron said decidedly and looked back over at Draco and Hermione working. "Sometime away from him," he added.

Harry nodded slowly, but then realized that meant time away from him as well, and started to frown. "I'm sorry, Ron," he muttered, but it went either unnoticed or ignored as the redhead turned to leave.

After a few moments, Harry rejoined Hermione and Draco at the table, though this time on Hermione's side. Draco pursed his lips, but didn't say a word as he continued to write down a list of equipment and objects he would need to perform both potions. "Are you alright?" Hermione asked softly after a moment.

Harry slowly nodded. "I think so. I mean, that could have gone a lot worse than it did."

"Yes, well, you know how Ron is," Hermione frowned.

"Yeah, I'll give him 'til next week and if he still hasn't murdered Malfoy in his sleep, we'll know he'll get over it," he said darkly.

"Perhaps the Weasel needs to mind his own business," Draco muttered, eyes never leaving his parchment.

Harry grit his teeth and clenched his fists on the desk. Hermione looked between the two of them and set her quill down. "I think I'll go check on Ron, make sure he really is alright." She excused herself from the room, leaving Harry glaring daggers at the blond who tried his best to remain unaffected.

"Is there something you want to say to me?" Draco finally asked slowly, still not looking up.

"Oh, there are a hundred things I'd like to say to you, Malfoy." Harry snapped but didn't say anything further, and Draco didn't prod. He knew not to poke a temperamental bear with a stick.

Harry finally settled himself at the furthest chair, crossed his arms and leaned back, trying his best to look at and think about anything other than Draco.

Draco looked up at the brunette, before rolling his eyes at his sour state and continuing on with his list, muttering to himself, "This is certainly going to be a lovely evening."


	14. Let Me Show You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the delay, I will be back to posting regularly from now on!   
> Great thanks to Michy for her continuous Beta-ing! :)   
> Please review, they are loved! Enjoy!

"Alright," Draco sighed, leaning back in his chair and closing his H.P Lovecraft text, pushing it aside. "Have at me, then, Potter." He gestured towards Harry who merely glared back from across the table.

"What do you mean?"

Draco rolled his eyes, stood up and lazily walked over towards Harry, who stiffened more the closer he got. Draco leaned up against the table beside him now and stared down at him coolly. "You have wanted to cut into me since the Weasel brought us up. Come on, you've never held back with me, what's stopping you now?" he prodded, but his voice was more curious than it was cruel which unnerved Harry. He realized Draco was truly concerned about what he was thinking.

Harry suddenly stood and strode towards the bookshelf, his back to Draco, who was watching him closely, calculatingly. "You spoke to me like I was a House Elf," Harry finally muttered.

"The way I said what I did...it's not how I meant it."

"Tch. I had enough of being owned at the Dursleys', thank you very much, I don't want to be ever treated like that again," Harry grumbled.

"Potter," Draco shook his head in disbelief. He pushed off the table, crossed the room to Harry and immediately snaked his arms around his middle. Harry jumped. "Harry. I was merely trying to protect what I care about. I thought we were already passed this, with the War and everything else, I thought you agreed to set aside it all for what we wanted? Each other."

Harry turned himself around, letting his arms shyly rise up around Draco's waist as well. The blond smirked down at him, his grey eyes twinkling. Harry had no idea how he hadn't seen it all the years before; how beautiful Draco really was, especially those eyes. Now he was so easily captivated by him. "I know. This is still what I want. Just try not to be so damn possessive, would you?"

"Cannot help who I am, Potter. And especially after this," Draco drawled, lifting up his right wrist pointedly, flashing Harry's initials on his skin.

"I guess it'll never be a dull moment with you, then. One minute I want to hex you to oblivion and the next, well..." Harry smirked. Draco's reaction to his words were immediate. He pushed his back up against the bookshelf, and slid his hands down to Harry's wrists, pushing them to either side of his shoulders. Draco was staring heatedly down at him, his face a mere inch away, grinning devilishly.

"You were saying, Harry? One minute you want to hex me and the next..." Draco urged in a whisper, leaning ever closer to Harry. His lips ran gently across his lips and Harry attempted to kiss him, but Draco was moving downwards, still holding his body captive against the bookshelf.

Harry was looking down at Draco through his eyelashes, his breathing becoming ragged as Draco's mouth suddenly pressed against his collarbone. Harry pressed his body forward, but in turn, was only pressed harder up against the bookshelf, his wrists being held so tightly that they were becoming numb. Draco's sudden, hardened member pressed up against his own slowly growing groin, causing him to gasp. Draco's mouth sucked on the tender skin of his collarbone, his tongue licking out every few moments. When his teeth gently bit down, Harry groaned aloud. " _Draco_ ," Harry hissed warningly.

Draco brought his lips back up to Harry's, kissing them chastely, but then leant back, smirking even wider now. "Tell me, Harry. Tell me what you want to do to me other than hex me. I want to hear it," he whispered. His tongue licked out on Harry's parted lips. The brunette tried to lunge forward to kiss him, but was still being tightly held against the bookshelf.

" _Pulsus_ ," Harry breathed. Draco's eyes went wide as he was slightly pushed back, only enough for him to release his hold on Harry. Quickly, the roles were reversed, as Harry grabbed Draco by the shoulders and threw him up against the bookshelf hard enough to bruise. Draco hissed in slight pain, but was quickly distracted when Harry's lips crashed into his own hungrily. His hands wasted no time exploring Draco, quickly finding their way under his ruffled button shirt, running his fingertips over the smooth skin.

Harry took a step back, grabbing Draco by the hand and leading him away. "Let me  _show you_ what I want to do."

Draco was grinning from ear-to-ear as Harry led him out of the library. "Are you not concerned that the Weasel-"

"Stop calling him that and frankly, no, not right now." Harry mumbled, quickly whisking Draco up to their shared bedroom. Thankfully, both Ron and Hermione were downstairs. Once inside, he slammed the door and quickly turned toward Draco. He shoved him down on his own bed and climbed on top of him, his mouth ravaging him immediately.

Draco was quick to rid Harry of his shirt, pulling it off over his head, Harry followed suit and once Draco was shirtless, he sat back a little bit and drank in the flaxen skin. Draco's hands ran down Harry's torso, causing him to shiver, his eyes becoming half-lidded. Harry leaned back over Draco, their bare chests pressed together as they kissed one another. Harry's mouth slowly trailed away from Draco's lips until they rested on the nape of his neck. The blond's hands were gripping his hips and pulling him closer as Harry suckled and licked his skin. Instinctually, Harry began to grind downward into Draco who moaned and did his best to press upwards into him. His hands ran up the length of Harry's sides till they found their way to his biceps and he flipped their positions once again. He smirked at Harry's suddenly surprised features which softened and turned into a sloppy grin.

"You just can't bear to have me on top of you, can you, Malfoy?"

"Oh no, trust me when I say I like it when you're on top of me, underneath me, beside me, whichever, Harry. It just wouldn't be  _us_  without a fight," Draco gleamed, before lowering himself back onto Harry's body. This time he kissed past his neck, his tongue and lips leaving a sticky, wet trace from Harry's collar bone all the way passed his nipples. Harry was watching him in disbelief, amazed at how good it looked and felt to have Draco Malfoy's tongue and lips all over his torso. The small pink tongue swirled around his naval a few times. He was shivering against nearly every movement, as Draco continued lowering himself. As Harry realized just what Draco was planning to do, he reached down and grabbed his shoulders, forcing him to look up questioningly.

"Draco, you don't have to-" Harry began softly.

Draco smirked. "I know. But I want you to see exactly what I want to do to you that doesn't involve my wand...and then maybe you could show me in return," he finished.

Harry simpered down at him, watching unabatedly as Draco's mouth was now hovering over the obvious bulge in his trousers. He undid his belt and slipped his pants down to his knees. Harry felt himself turning red all over. He almost stopped himself to think, but Draco was quicker than his thoughts were, and his hand had suddenly worked itself into his briefs and grasped his member. Harry threw his head back, gasping loudly, and he bit his lower lip. Draco was looking up at him with both amusement and calculation. It was something entirely new for the both of them to be exploring. Draco took a deep breath, looking between Harry's toned torso and the now throbbing dick in his grip, his own twitching at the sight and feel of it. He took a deep breath and lowered his mouth onto Harry's head and began to let his tongue swirl around experimentally before pushing himself down on the other's erection.

Harry's hands became lost in Draco's hair as he tried his hardest not to thrust upward into the wet warmth, but when he glanced a look down at the boy who was slowly bobbing his head he groaned and lost himself. " _Fuck_ , Draco," Harry hissed. Draco smirked against the invasive member and it nearly set Harry over the edge, feeling his lips curl upwards like that around his own length. Harry's reactions caused Draco to work faster, becoming more comfortable with each movement and the way Harry was beginning to uncontrollably buck his hips. It wasn't very long until Harry lost himself completely somewhere between the feeling of Draco's mouth and the way he looked devouring him; he came with Draco's name on the edge of his lips, his cum spilling into the other's awaiting mouth. Draco seized his ministrations and slowly sat up on the bed, his smirk was broader than ever when he took in Harry's exasperatedly elated form. And then Draco did something that took Harry completely by surprise. He swallowed.

With the little strength left in Harry, he pulled Draco down to the bed, flipping him onto his back and climbing over top of him. "Draco, you have no idea how bloody good-"

"Oh, I know. Even for my first time I must admit, I am simply amazing," Draco grinned.

Harry gawked momentarily. "You've never...?"

"I've never anything, Harry. What can I say, Malfoys are just incessantly good at everything we try."

Harry shook his head, chuckling lightly, "You do know you just insinuated that your-"

"Shut up, Potter. Hurry up and return the favour," Draco demanded, shoving all possible thoughts of his parents out of his head. Harry smirked and wasted no time, lowering himself down onto Draco.

* * *

"Tea?" Hermione asked as she walked into the kitchen. Ron was seated at the table with his head in his hands looking flustered. Without a response, she started to brew a pot, preparing a cup for each of them.

Once she pushed a cup of hot tea before Ron and sat across from him, his shoulders hunched forward and he looked up from underneath his fringe. "Why didn't you tell me?"

She frowned. "It wasn't really my business to tell, Ronald. Harry said he would, when he had things a little more figured out."

"But Malfoy? How? Why?" he asked, distraught.

"Sometimes it's hard to explain who you..." Hermione trailed off, "It doesn't make any sense to Harry, either, Ron. But, er, when I saw them I could tell that, um, they were both very into one another. Perhaps Malfoy more than Harry, he seems oddly at ease with it all," she said thoughtfully.

"But Harry's gay? When in the devil did that happen? Gay with Malfoy?"

Hermione sighed, taking a sip from her tea. "I don't think Harry's gay, exactly. I think perhaps he just likes being, er, close to Malfoy."

Ron shivered and finally removed his hands from his head, wrapping them around his cup. "It's not the gay thing anyway, you know how Charlie is, it doesn't bother me. It's just that it's Malfoy. We can't trust the bugger and Harry can't most of all."

"I don't know, Ron, he seems to be helping us out an awful lot and his Dark Mark really is quite torn up, it's still not properly healed. Harry said he was pretty near death when he found him. Not to mention their Oath makes it impossible for Malfoy to put Harry in any sort of danger," Hermione reminded him quietly. She knew Ron well enough that he could be okay with this, in time, given the proper explanations.

"Yeah, but the bastard can still harm us," Ron muttered pointedly, gulping down the soothing, warm liquid.

"After what Malfoy has been through it must be extremely difficult for him to trust anybody else. You must remember it is his own family that did that to him, his Aunt. Is that what you are concerned about, him hurting us?"

Ron shrugged. "No, not really. What in hell does Harry see in him, anyway? He's a great prat."

Hermione smiled softly. "They are a lot alike. I reckon that's what made them hate each other so much. Hate and love is such a fine line, Ron," she paused, her smile twitching into a grin. "Besides, Malfoy's really not that bad looking either."

"Hermione!" Ron screeched, staring over at her with a horrified expression as she dissolved into a fit of giggles overtop the steam of her tea. "That's bloody disgusting. First him and now you, what's this world coming to?"

Calming herself down, she said seriously, "Malfoy's right, we're at war, Ron. We can't be fighting amongst ourselves."

Ron frowned sullenly. "The sooner we're done with him the better, s'all, I can't wait to get away from that bastard."

"That might happen sooner than you think."

"Hmm? What do you mean?" Ron asked, a little too enthused about the prospect of leaving Malfoy's presence.

Hermione bit her lip. "Er, Malfoy and I were talking while we were studying. After we have everything we need, from the Malfoy Manor, some of us will need to work on collecting the ingredients for the Horcrux Potion as well as locating the last Horcruxes. But, at the same time, the ingredients needed for the counter to Mauvais' Potion are quite rare and most are only found in secluded locations. We think it would be best if we could split up, once we have everything we need. We can find a way to contact one another when our tasks are almost complete and meet at Hogwarts, where we know the final Hocruxes are."

Ron opened and closed his mouth for a few minutes before he leaned back in his chair. Most thoughts of Malfoy had escaped his head at that as he gulped down the rest of his tea. "I know what we have to do and get but where will they have to go?"

"Malfoy has an idea but nothing is certain as of yet. It is very ancient and dark magic that we have to counter to destroy Mauvais."

"Does Harry know yet? That we have to separate if we're going to get this all done?"

"Not yet. He will understand though and before you even say it, Ronald, the Oath protects Harry," Hermione said as soon as she saw Ron's mouth open again in protest.

Sighing, Ron stood up slowly, pushing his chair back. "I don't like him or whatever it is the two of them are doing. But you're right, we have better things to be doing with our time than wasting it with this."

"Where are you going?"

"I have to talk to Harry."

"Ron, I don't think right now is-" Hermione sighed. The redhead had already swept from the kitchen and was thudding up the stairs.

Once Ron realized they were no longer in the study he cautiously made his way towards their bedroom door. It was oddly quiet, so he figured they were sleeping or perhaps mulling over texts in their room instead of the study. He took a deep breath, steadying himself for the apology he knew he needed to make. When he pushed open the door, however, nothing could prepare him for what he was about to see.

Harry was on his knees propped over top of Malfoy, his length buried in his mouth, as Draco had his head resting back against the pillow, his hand lost in Harry's hair as he lowly groaned. They didn't even notice the door open or Ron's horrified, strangled expression at seeing them. He was frozen for a moment, staring in shock at the bobbing of Harry's head. As soon as he gathered his wits, he fled from the room, slamming the door behind himself and hurrying down the stairs.

As he re-joined Hermione in the kitchen, she not only had another cup of tea prepared for him, but chocolate as well. "Sit. Drink and eat," she demanded immediately upon seeing his flushed features.

Mechanically, he sat down and shoved a piece of chocolate into his already agape mouth. "They were...they were..." Ron struggled with his words.

"I told you not to go up there."

"I didn't think...that...Hermione, they were..." he shivered, "I think I've gone blind."

Hermione laughed and shook her head. "Boys, they're always so oblivious."


	15. Take Me

Draco sighed, closing his text and pushing it away. Tomorrow, finally, after another day of convincing, the four of them would be leaving for Malfoy Manor, and the idea of it was making him more nervous than he had thought it would. He turned in his chair, stealing a glance at the dishevelled, sleeping Harry, curled up on the study's loveseat. He appeared at peace. Draco knew that the moment he woke, his face would be perplexed and riddled with embarrassment, surprise or anger. The Wonder Boy always wore his emotions so boldly, unmasked, the opposite of Draco himself. Perhaps it was one of the characteristics he admired since it was not one he could entirely understand.

But, in sleep, Harry was guarded. It was his habitual use of Occlumency that allowed him to appear so calm in his slumber. Draco stood, making his way across the room, and stopped before Harry, peering down carefully at him as he tried to force away the small smile that crept on the corner of his lips. "Harry, what am I going to do with you when the War's over - if we survive?" he wondered, bringing himself to kneel. Suddenly, unwelcome thoughts of his late parents flooded him, of his absent school acquaintances fighting opposite him. Draco frowned. "What are you going to do with  _me_?"

Some of Harry's unruly fringe fell before his resting eyes as he moved slightly in his sleep. Draco reached forward to brush it aside, his fingers gently trailing just above his brow. Reflexively, Harry's hand shot out and wrapped around Draco's wrist, and his eyes flew open with emergency. The moment they met Draco's, he sighed and quickly fell back into slumber, his eyes fluttering closed.

Draco smirked. He felt almost triumphant - even in his sleep, Harry trusted him. "Come on, Potter, that couch is certainly not big enough for the both of us," he whispered, contemplating levitating the sleeping boy or lifting him. Draco hadn't the energy for either, so he gently prodded him, shaking him awake.

"Mm...it's the Wrackspurts, 'Mione..." Harry mumbled, burrowing into the couch further.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Wrackspurts? Honestly, Potter, what have you been reading lately?" He shook him more vigorously and finally Harry seemed to blearily rouse. He was looking up confusedly at Draco. "I would say your head is indeed full of Wrackspurts if you thought for a second I would be sleeping in here. Let's go, Golden Boy."

Harry groaned and shuffled slowly from the couch onto his feet, following Draco to their own small room down the narrow hall. Once inside, Draco was already sliding under his covers, his trousers and shirt removed. Wearily, Harry pulled his shirt over his head. Without a thought, in a dream state, Harry's hand lifted and waved at his own bed. It moved itself with ease, suddenly pushed up against Draco's. The blond's eyes went wide with surprise, wondering if Harry registered the wandless magic he had just used. The thought left Draco when he felt warm, bare skin against his back. Harry joined him under the covers, his arm falling across Draco's mid-drift as he curled around his body.

"Harry, what-"

"Mmm..go t'sleep," was Harry's muffled response before his breathing steadied.

Draco relaxed into the touch, falling asleep more easily than he had in a long time.

When he woke many hours later, it was to the absence of warmth. By the time his eyes adjusted to the morning light, he was alone in bed, and Harry was quickly throwing on his same old over-sized Muggle clothing.

"So, what inspired the sudden alteration of our furnishings?" Draco drawled, his voice slightly hoarse in the early hours. He was propped up on his elbows, watching Harry turn to him, surprised.

"Me? I didn't do this, I was asleep."

Raising an eyebrow, Draco stood, holding his hand out expectantly. Ever since the beginning of his sanctuary, he had to unfortunately wear whatever clothes Harry left for him in the morning. Harry frowned and looked about before picking a clean pair of trousers and his shirt from yesterday. "I haven't got anything left that's clean," he explained as he tossed it at Draco, mindful not to let his eyes linger on the lean, nearly nude body longer than they had to. "Er, so why exactly did you move the beds together, anyway?"

"You couldn't even  _Scourgify_  it for me?"

"I'm not your maid, er, House Elf," Harry shot back. As Draco dressed, reluctant to ever admit it, he found something soothing as he pulled Harry's soiled shirt over his head and was surrounded by his scent. "What were you playing at with the beds, then?"

"Like I said,  _you_  did it, Harry. Do not even try to lie to me saying you didn't like sleeping with me."

"Shove off. I can't have done something I don't even..." Harry's face suddenly drained. "I, but no...that wasn't a dream?" he spluttered.

"Dreaming of bedding me now, Harry?" Draco couldn't help himself. Something about the way Harry squirmed and reddened at his words excited him.

Harry grumbled, "Shut up, it's just...I used wandless magic that easily? I was practically asleep."

Draco was standing before him now. He let his arms snake around Harry's waist and pulled him forcibly against himself. Resignedly, Harry leaned into the small comfort and his own arms mirrored Draco's. "I reckon you can use wandless magic whenever and however you wish it."

"I know I've done it before, but not like that, not so easily with something so big."

"Perhaps it comes the less you think about it," Draco suggested, "You are not the Wonder Boy for no reason."

"Don't call me that," he muttered. "Are you saying I think too much to use wandless magic properly then?"

Draco shook his head. "No, that cannot be right. You hardly think at all. You _feel_ too much to use it at will. You need to be able to control your emotions in order to control something like the wandless arts."

"How am I supposed to do that exactly? Stop feeling?" Harry asked.

"Spend enough time with a Malfoy, you will learn to adjust."

Harry brought his right wrist up momentarily, flashing the etched initials. "Not like I can go anywhere if I tried."

"Harry, you won't go anywhere not because you can't, but because you don't want to. You can't get enough of me," Draco said lowly and his lips curled upward, and  _'Oh God, that smirk again_.' Harry didn't hesitate to feel it on his lips again; he kissed Draco needily and hard, immediately feeling a warmth spread through him.

He felt Draco's arms tighten around him as he leaned forward, deepening their kiss. He couldn't help but absently think that he was right - Harry couldn't get enough of him. Ever since First Year, he was like a poison he couldn't stop drinking. But now that poison had turned bittersweet and Harry found himself drowning in it.

" _Tempus_ ," Harry whispered between chaste kisses. He leaned backwards, seeing the time briefly displayed just over Draco's shoulder. It was still early yet, he doubted the others would even be awake.

Harry took a few steps forward, his lips working madly at Draco's who responded just as eagerly. Harry kept walking forward until Draco's shins were up against the bedframe. He gently pushed him back onto it, the sheets still warm from their sleep. He immediately lowered himself hungrily to Draco's lips, pushing his body up against his so that no distance was left between them.

Draco's hands were working up his back, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it to the side, running back down over the tight muscles. His growing member tightened in his trousers and he could feel Harry's excitement in return; he gasped and arched upwards towards him, rubbing their clothed erections together. Harry's small groan in response was all he needed to hear.

"Take it off," Draco ordered, tugging at Harry's trousers.

Quickly and obediently Harry worked at the restricting trousers, his eyes feasting on Draco's flushed body before him as the blond also took off his own pants. Once they were down to their briefs, Draco licked his lips, observing Harry's bulging underwear.

"Do you want me to-"

"No, not this time. I want you to touch me," Draco breathed.

"Where?" Harry asked quickly.

"Anywhere. Everywhere."

Harry's eyes went wide. After what they had done the other day, he knew he shouldn't be intimidated by such a request, but he was. He had no idea what he was doing or where this was going, all he knew was that he wanted Draco however he could have him. He wanted to feel each rivet in his flesh, he wanted to map each blemish and kiss every inch of skin. So he did. His lips, teeth and tongue trailed across Draco's body, the blond's own hands continuing to explore Harry as he did.

Draco's eyes were softly closed. His cock was beginning to throb as he felt Harry's lips kiss down his navel. Harry slipped off Draco's briefs, admiring the full sight of him being nude. He was about to lower himself onto him before Draco's hands gripped his shoulders, stopping him and pulling him up to face him. "What is it, what's wrong?" Harry asked.

"I want you, Harry. I want you to have me," Draco whispered.

"Draco, I've never done anything like that before. I can't," Harry shook his head. Although he was excited at the thought of it, he was equally terrified.

Draco smiled softly and shook his head. "Neither have I. It's either you have me or I'll take you, Harry. I want more than just to be sucked off. I want to really feel you."

Harry shivered at the words and bit his lip. "Then you take me, Draco."

Having not expecting that, Draco stilled, surprised. "Harry, are you certain?"

Harry gulped but slowly nodded, and Draco didn't need telling twice. His body ached for Harry. He quickly switched their positions, wiggling Harry out of his briefs as he did. Once on top, both of their naked bodies pressed against each other, he ground his excited member into Harry's and both boys gasped at the sensation. "I'm going to have to-"

"I don't care, Draco. Take me, you can have me," Harry rasped.

Draco almost lost himself at his words. "Fuck, Harry, you have no idea how much I am going to make you cum."

* * *

Well over an hour later, the morning was becoming late, and they were lying naked in one another's arms, Harry settled between Draco's legs and pressed up against him. He was feeling rather sore though overly satisfied, and a few numbing charms helped to ease him. Harry was making small traces on Draco's thigh. "Are you nervous?"

"Yes," Draco answered truthfully.

"If what you said is true and there's only minor surveillance, we can handle it," Harry said reassuringly.

"No, it's not that, it's-"

"You haven't been there since then. I get it," he said softly.

Draco nodded, feeling oddly more exposed than he had when he was physical with Harry. He was becoming too easily read by him.

"It's okay, we'll be there. _I_ will be there." Harry gripped his leg comfortingly.

There was a soft knock on the door and Harry's name was called gently, "Harry, can I come in?"

"Er, just a min-"

"Come in, Granger," Draco interrupted louder than Harry.

Panicked at their current nude state and the fact Draco had just invited her inside, Harry scrambled for their sheets and covered them the best he could. Draco was smirking and still holding Harry lightly when Hermione came into the room.

Hermione looked them over and blushed, biting her lip she tried her hardest to look anywhere but directly at them. "Er, I thought I should come wake you two up. We should really get going soon."

"Already? It's a little early isn't it?"

"The sooner we get there, the better. Merlin knows how long we will have to spend in the studies and getting to some of the supplies in the Malfoy Manor can prove...trying," Draco explained.

"Exactly, and that way we can return before dark. Er, I guess I'll leave you two...just hurry before Ron comes to check on you, we don't need him having another, um, show," Hermione blushed before going back out into the hall, softly closing the door behind her.

Harry sighed and leaned against Draco. "Are you sure you'll be okay going there?"

"Don't worry about me, Harry, I'll be fine. Perhaps show some more concern for yourself with this little trip we will be making," Draco suggested lightly, finally pushing Harry gently off him.

"Why should I? It's not me who's returning to the place where my own Aunt tortured me and killed my parents," he returned, immediately regretting his words. Draco, however, seem unaffected as he shrugged and began dressing.

"Any Death Eater who is there will care less about me when the Wonder Boy is there."

Harry shrugged in return, getting dressed as well, but more slowly, and he twitched every few moments as a twinge of muscular pain shot through his body. Draco noticed and found himself grinning. "We probably should have waited."

"I'll be fine. I just might need another Charm or two," Harry muttered, but couldn't help, despite the discomfort, smiling at the thought of what they had been doing not long before.

Draco, now dressed, came over to grin down at Harry, quickly enveloping him. "I am certain we can find a few Pain Relieving Potions in the Manor's kitchen that will help as well. Thank you, Harry, it was wonderful."

Harry blushed at his words and held Draco tighter. "It was, wasn't it?" he pulled away from him, pecking his lips quickly and slipping his hand into Draco's, entwining their fingers. "Now come on, let's bring you home."


	16. The Manor

**Chapter Sixteen  
The Manor**

They landed just outside the grounds of the Malfoy Estate with two resounding cracks. Hermione and Ron quickly let one another's hands drop to their sides as Harry looked over at Draco's tight, thin-lipped and masked face, and squeezed his fingers with own. The other two were looking expectantly between Draco and his former Manor, lying in wait for them between the stretches of manicured gardens and courtyards.

"These are the East Grounds. It would be best to walk around the parameter 'til we reach the Southwest. Not far from the gates, there is a separate entrance in the forest," Draco explained, staring across the grounds for a moment longer before pulling Harry along into a thicket of trees. It appeared to be an expansive forest that enveloped the Estate grounds.

Hermione and Ron quickly followed behind. "It's beautiful. Even without anybody to tend to the gardens, it looks amazing," Hermione commented from behind them.

Draco shot a quick look over his shoulder at her, his face still masked. "The House Elves are still tending."

"Why are we going into the forest?" Ron asked. The brush was thick, and even in the early afternoon sun, they were heavily shaded.

"I said the Death Eaters that would be keeping post here would not be of the highest calibre. I did not say they were absolutely imbecilic. If we simply walked up and knocked on the door, I do not think we would receive a warm reception," he sneered, causing Ron to glare icily at his back.

"Won't they be guarding this entrance?" Hermione asked.

Draco shook his head. "They wouldn't know about it. It, like many other nooks of the Estate and my Manor, is controlled by blood magic. A lot of it will only answer to the head of the Estate," he explained coolly.

"Which is now you," Hermione verified softly.

"Indeed. It will make this little trip smoother for all of us if we use the Manor to our advantage and against theirs."

Harry snorted. "You're making it sound like the Manor is alive."

Draco raised his brow and though his mask was firmly in place, he couldn't bite back the small smirk that grew on the corner of his lips as he shot Harry a glance. "In many ways, it is. It's alive with magic. It has been alive just as long as the Malfoy line itself; it dates back to the same decade Hogwarts was founded."

"That means your house is from the ninth century!" Hermione said incredulously. "That's amazing!" She cast another glance back at the Estate, disappearing slowly from their view, as they continued deeper into the forest.

They changed direction, now walking presumably towards the Southwest. "Every pureblood family is nearly as old," Ron said, surprising Draco slightly.

"The Weasleys, as well as the Prewitts, came to be about a century later. The Potters were not far behind," Draco explained, nudging Harry softly.

"It's still odd to think of my Dad as pureblood. I mean, when I think of pureblood I think of, well, y'know, stuck up Slytherin brats," Harry teased.

Draco eyed him. "Your Father's bloodline, yours in consequence, is one of the strongest. If there were more children than yourself, it would have been unfortunate about your Mother."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry quickly snapped defensively.

Squeezing his hand to assure him that he meant no harm, Draco continued, "She was a great Witch from what Sev used to tell me. She would have been greater, more powerful, if she wasn't Muggleborn. There are many fantastic Muggleborn witches and wizards, Granger being one. It is just that as Muggleborns are more likely to breed Squib offspring, there was a great chance that the Potter bloodline could have died then and there with her. I have nothing against Muggleborns, I just find breeding with them counterproductive to our kind."

Though Hermione was thankful for the compliment and Harry was quiet for a moment, contemplating Draco's view of Muggleborns, Ron was quick to sneer. "And being with Harry isn't counterproductive?"

"Ronald!" Hermione hissed quickly under her breath as Harry turned around about to protest, but Draco quickly spoke before he could.

"No, you are right, it is counterproductive. For Harry, at least. I do believe it may be time for the Malfoy line to be laid to rest," Draco said calmly, "The Potter line, however, still has a place." Harry was about to argue otherwise, but Draco withdrew his hand from Harry's and gestured towards a rather old, thick tree. "Here it is," he announced.

The three gathered round the tree looking curiously at it, and Harry reached out and ran his hand along the thick body. "Looks normal to me," Harry turned to look at Draco who placed his hand gingerly on his shoulder.

"You will all have to step back a moment and then come through immediately following me. I doubt the wards will drop for much longer than a few moments," he explained and withdrew his wand.

"How exactly does blood magic work?" Ron asked slowly, watching Draco steady his wand and point it at his left hand.

"With blood and magic. Obviously, Weasel," Draco sneered and then pressed the tip of his wand gently into his palm, " _Lacero_ ," his words caused a thin, long line to cut along his palm, and small trickles of red blood flowed from it. Draco presented his palm forward, closed his eyes and pointed his wand at the tree whispering, "I am Draco Lucius Malfoy."

The air suddenly became thick as the tree seemed to become extended in width. It opened up in the middle, slowly creaking and cracking open a six foot entry way about as wide as the trunk itself. Everybody, including Draco, looked impressed. "It has been a long time since I have seen this entry. My father used to take me through it when I was younger and used to play in the forest."

Harry found himself smiling softly as he imagined a young Draco galloping carelessly about in the woods, then the thought of a calm, fatherly Lucius Malfoy stilled him momentarily. "Harry, quickly now," Draco warned, stepping in through the threshold. Hermione and Ron followed after then finally, Harry.

Behind him, the entrance closed up on itself. Before Hermione or Ron could withdraw their wands, Harry raised his hand almost instinctually, " _Lumos Maxima_ ," and from his palm, a ball of brilliant light lit the dark, narrow path before them.

"Harry! How did you do that?" Ron asked as he and Hermione stared at the ball of light with equal amazement and surprise. Draco had his brow raised, but decided not to comment as he began on the way through the earthy path.

"It kind of, erm, just started happening."

"He means to say he finally realized he could perform it," Draco informed them from the front of the single line they had formed slowly walking down the tunnel.

"I remember you saying something about growing your hair back when you were younger by wishing it. But this is different, this is by willing it. Harry, that's fantastic," Hermione said in awe.

Harry was blushing lightly, but before he could respond, Draco stopped suddenly, turning to face the Gryffindors. "A spell we can all perform well is not what you should be wasting your energy on, Harry. Save it for when we get to the Manor, when you'll need it.  _Lumos Maxima_." Harry nodded understandingly and let his own light die out as he brought his wand back into grip. "It will take about ten minutes to get to the other end. Blood magic is needed once again to exit. I am not certain if there will be Death Eaters in the dungeon so I hope to be able to call a House Elf once we are closer, to make our path through the Manor as easy as possible," he explained and continued to lead the way.

As Draco expected, it was ten minutes before they reached the other end of the path. He looked pointedly at the other three whom all nodded in return. "Tally? It is Draco. Are you here?"

There was a resounding crack and a small, frail and skinny House Elf appeared. "Master Malfoy, sirs! You is finally returned! The other Elves didn't believe Tally. Oh no, sirs, they did not. But Tally knew Master the moment he entered the wards, sir! We thought you was-"

"Where are they keeping you?" Draco quickly cut her off.

Tally's face fell slightly. "We is staying in our quarters still, sirs. We is being forced to look after those men. They killed them, Master Draco, sirs! Master and Mistress, they killed them!" Tally was in a fit of sobs all of a sudden, wringing her bony hands about her tea cosy.

Draco's face tightened slightly. "I know, I was there. How many men are here now?"

"There is being seven of them. Sometimes eight, but he only comes every few days. He is not coming today, sir," Tally informed him.

"Do you know where they all are?" Draco asked, but Tally shook her head. "Are any in the dungeons?"

"No sirs, they do not like it down here. They wander places besides where their Master has not allowed them," she explained.

"Where are they not allowed?"

"Any of the studies, Master. They have been warded to notify entry."

"Well isn't that bloody fantastic," Ron muttered darkly.

For the first time, Tally took in the others surrounding Draco. His eyes landed on Harry and he seemed to smile unnervingly. "You is the great Harry Potter! The old Master and Mistress did not like you! But Tally hears talk. Yes, we is told that sir Harry Potter freed Dobby! Dobby told us himself!" Tally said excitedly.

"Dobby? Have you seen him lately?" Harry quickly asked.

"Yes sir! Last week, sir! He is coming often to speak with us. He brings us many socks!" Harry smiled warmly at the thought.

"Listen Tally, we have to spend a little time here. We can deal with the men that are already here, but can you monitor the wards and tell each of us promptly if anybody else comes through them?"

"Yes, Master Malfoy! Tally can do that. But sirs, we needs to tell you it's not safe in the Manor anymore!" Tally seemed genuinely concerned.

Draco nodded. "I know, Tally, but this is something we have to do. Tell me, who is the Master of these men?"

"Master Draco's Godfather, sir."

"Your Godfather?" It was Hermione who questioned quietly.

Nodding slowly Draco couldn't help but feel a wave of relief wash over him. "Severus," he said softly, "He must have put the wards on the studies knowing we would need them when the time came."

"We can't trust him! He murdered Dumbledore!" Ron hissed.

Draco glared at him and spoke slowly, "Sev risked his life to save mine. He was the one who sent me to Harry for sanctuary."

"We can trust Snape," Harry said firmly to his two friends, and Draco shot him a quick, grateful look.

"Tally, you may return to your quarters. Do not tell the others we are here. Remember to inform us of any entry into the wards."

Tally bowed low, her cosy scraping the ground. "Yes sirs. Be careful, Master Draco."

"Why haven't you called on your House Elves sooner, Malfoy?" Ron quipped suspiciously once Tally Disapparated.

"Apparation is traceable so if a House Elf went noticeably missing they would have traced it." Draco explained and looked down at his lightly lacerated hand; it was still fresh enough. He offered it forward and spoke evenly, "I am Draco Lucius Malfoy."

Just as the tree had done, the earth wall before them suddenly grew an opening. They were quick to slip through it, wands in hand. "The dungeons lie under the West Wing. Once we ascend, do you two remember where to go?" Draco was whispering now as they entered the dungeons. It was a long and wide corridor of cold stone, and there were barred cells and a few closed wooden doors. There were unlit torches that lined the hall which they were cautiously making their way down.

"Yes. I have the map you drew us just in case as well," Hermione said, gesturing to a piece of parchment she had folded up in her hand. "After we clear the East and North ends, we will meet you in your Father's study."

Draco nodded. "The East and North Wings of the Manor are the smaller of the two. They are mostly guest rooms, salons, the kitchens. Do look for anything useful in the kitchens if you can, Tally will assist you. The other wings are where most of the Death Eaters will be. They are the Master bedrooms, including my own, the sitting areas and sunroom."

"Don't forget the Cloak," Harry said. He'd had his Invisibility Cloak folded up and tucked underneath his own cloak the entire time. He took it out and passed it to Ron who was frowning.

"What about you two? Aren't you more wanted than us, shouldn't you use the Cloak?"

"No need. I can use my knowledge of the Manor against them. Here we are," Draco informed them, coming to a sudden stop. There was a small staircase that ascended a short distance before an ornate door.

"Be careful, Harry. Draco, you too," Hermione said briefly to the two of them.

"We'll see you at his Father's study soon," Harry said reassuringly, smiling weakly as Ron shot him a flushed look and threw the Invisibility Cloak over the two of them. Soft footsteps began up the stairs as Harryreciprocated Draco's embrace, leaning back slightly to kiss him softly on his cheek. "Is this where they kept you?"

Draco nodded. "In the third cell on the right. The smallest one, of course."

"Is this where, erm…" Harry trailed off, unsure of how to word his question as he held to Draco tighter.

"No. They were murdered in the foyer." Draco's cold and detached tone worried Harry who brought his lips to ghost across his. Draco sighed into the touch and pressed closer to him. "When we go out there, Harry, I want you to trust your instincts. Trust in your magic, Harry. We will need it."

Harry let his arms drop after another tight squeeze. "I'll try. Are you ready?"

"Yes. Ready to get this over with."

Draco led the way up the stairs and paused only for a brief moment before exiting the dungeon door. The corridor they appeared in was deserted, there wasn't even the patter of feet against the polished marble floors. The walls were lined with perfectly placed portraits, some moving and some not, of whom Harry assumed were former Malfoys or other distant family members. Draco was trying hard not to let his sense of nostalgia wash over him entirely as he walked along the corridor clinging to the walls. Listening carefully, his eyes narrowed as he looked ahead of him.

It was, to Harry, surprisingly bright in the Manor. He imagined it to be darker, everything much more sinister appearing. Other than having a dungeon for a basement, it was a rather light and elegant home from what he could tell. Draco quickly turned towards Harry, placing a finger over his lips and nudging his head in the direction of a curve in the corridor. Footsteps could be heard, two pairs of feet, slowly coming closer. Harry quickly had his wand at the ready. They had this all planned out, he was certain with the element of surprise they wouldn't have much trouble subduing a few minor Death Eaters for a few hours. A couple of quick Stunning Spells, Sleeping Charms or a handful of simple Jinxes could do the trick when they had surprise on their side.

However, they had not counted on these particular people turning the corner. The pair of Slytherins stood before Harry and Draco now, their faces flushed with consternation. "Draco?  _Potter_?!" The dark-haired boy said sceptically.

"Nott. Pansy," Draco greeted them icily, his teeth bared, although he said Pansy's name with slight hesitation and a quiver to his tone. Harry was looking between the three of them, wondering whether or not he should begin to throw a hex, but neither of the Slytherins had even drawn their wands yet.

Pansy looked between her two former classmates for a few moments before her eyes settled on Draco firmly and the corner of her lips upturned into a soft smirk.

"What in Salazar's name are you wearing, Draco?"


	17. Old Friends

Hermione chewed her lip as she started around the first corner of the corridor. Silence. Emptiness. She wasn't surprised that they had yet to run into or hear signs of the presence of any others, as there were only seven Death Eaters stationed in the Manor in total, and from the map Draco had drawn them, it was gigantic.

She and Ron had planned their route already, to clear their path with as little resistance as possible. It was hard to concentrate on the task at hand and not be distracted by the beauty of the ancient, well-kept Manor or the idea of Draco growing up within its walls. "'Mione," Ron called softly, a slight warning to his tone.

They both stilled, and Ron's free hand found hers and squeezed it tentatively. Hermione couldn't help but blush, but she shook the thought from her head, concentrating on what was coming towards them, seemingly walking with ease in their direction. "What about Exploding Snaps?" A familiar voice asked. He was loud and low toned.

"I'm sick of it," another voice grunted, sounding nearly identical.

"Who knew the War would be so bloody boring," the boy groaned.

The feet stopped walking, there was a slight scuffle of clothing. "Don't talk like that! You know this is an important task, Goyle! If Draco comes back, we will be the ones to get credit for his capture. We will be rewarded!"

"We gotta go back to school soon, who will keep this post then?"

"Blast school. Do you really think any of the others will bother going back?" he countered.

There was some soft grumbling and hushed words which Hermione and Ron couldn't work out as the footsteps continued in their direction. Hermione cast a look back at Ron who nodded knowingly at her. The footsteps rounded the corner and without a second thought, the two Gryffindors yelled in unison, " _Stupefy_!"

Crabbe and Goyle's faces were frozen in surprise as their bodies slumped to the floor. Hermione let a heavy breath out as Ron approached the bodies, sneering down at their immobilized forms. "I think you should have bothered with school," he hissed, jeering his foot into Crabbe's ribs. The boys' eyes went wide.

Hermione frowned at Ron. "Come on, I'll rope them up. We don't have time for this, Ronald."

" _Petrificus Totalus_ ," Ron repeated the jinx twice, once on each oversized boy. There was no harm in ensuring they would stay just how and where they needed them to be.

" _Tatemius_." Ropes sprung from Hermione's wand and wrapped around both boys, making quick work of tying them together, side by side. "I'll levitate them."

They continued on their way, Crabbe and Goyle levitating between them as Ron led, Hermione cautiously checking over her shoulder every few moments. "That was easy, let's hope the rest of them are."

They walked without interruption for quite some time, clearing out more than half of the area they were assigned to. Hermione replaced their Petrification Charms to be sure. It was just outside what was supposed to be a parlour that they heard voices again. Three of them this time, bantering lightly back and forth over what seemed to be chess.

"Can you hear who it is?" Hermione hissed to Ron who shook his head. They were perched outside the doors, Crabbe and Goyle behind them now, still levitated by Hermione's wand.

"I have an idea," Ron said suddenly. He knew it would most likely be best not to duel three Death Eaters at once, especially if they couldn't recognize their voices, as that meant they were more likely to not be from Hogwarts. "You stay under the Invisibility Cloak right beside the door. I will stand a little way down the corridor. Drop Crabbe and Goyle right at the foot of the door, and make sure it's loud enough for them to hear it."

Hermione found herself smiling softly. She could see what he was getting at, coaxing them out of the room, hoping to trip them as they did, force them to go off down the corridor towards him and then she could hex them from behind. It was unfair, but tactical for being outnumbered, especially by those most likely more advanced than them.

The two situated themselves as Ron had instructed, and the redhead even placed a timed Tripping Jinx in the corridor in his direction. At the ready, after a steady breath, Hermione dropped the two stilled boys onto the ground just before the doors of the Parlour. Chairs could be heard screeching as those inside came to an immediate stand. When the doors flung open, the first one through was a recognizable Marcus Flint who fell over Crabbe and Goyle's bodies.

"Oy! Flint, you giant buffoon!" Ron called teasingly from down the hallway. Flint quickly steadied himself onto his feet, snarling as he raised his wand and immediately shot a Stunning Hex at Ron who easily dodged it. A Cruciatus Curse quickly followed, against which Ron thankfully threw up a Protego just in time.

The second person came out of the doorway now, stepping over the two boys' bodies and raising their wand. It was a girl Hermione could recall seeing in the Hogwarts halls, but one she had never really spoken with, and she was younger than they were. Greengrass was her last name, Hermione believed. "Astoria, what is all the commotion?" an older man's voice called from deeper within the Parlour.

Hermione quickly stunned Astoria from behind, and her body fell not far from Crabbe and Goyle's. Down the corridor, Ron and Flint were still throwing Jinxes and Hexes at one another as the older male exited the Parlour and took a quick survey of his surroundings, his wand raised and teeth bared. It was Fenrir Greyback. Hermione's breath caught in her throat, and a small squeak of surprise and fear escaped her before she clamped her hands over her mouth. The aged werewolf peered down at the duelling boys and then sniffed the air, his head slowly turned in her direction. She took a small step backwards, hoping to muffle his scent with distance.

"Come out, come out wherever you are," Greyback sang, his mouth curling up into a devilish smirk as he stepped towards Hermione, who took another step back. "I can smell you, Mudblood, but where ever could you be?"

Hermione weighed up her options and looked back down the corridor, where Ron was still duelling with Flint relentlessly. She bit her lip, knowing she couldn't match Fenrir Greyback in a duel. Quickly making a decision, Hermione sucked up her courage and ran past the werewolf, bounding down towards Ron, her wand raised underneath the Cloak as she fired a silent Stunning Charm. Her charm flew at the unsuspecting Marcus Flint, but she, however, did not quite make it all the way past the snarling wolf.

* * *

Pansy's question rang in silence around the four of them. Harry was still prepared to shoot a curse at any given time, but he wasn't sure how to take both Pansy and Nott's presence. Were they allies of Draco's or enemies? He knew he was their enemy indefinitely, but was their allegiance to their old friend stronger than that to the Dark Lord?

Draco's lips twitched up into a smirk as he picked at the oversized tee Harry had given him to wear that morning that still smelt like him. "It is not me you should criticize for these ghastly clothes. Talk to Harry, the Boy Who Never Shops," he teased. Harry's mouth opened and closed with a retort fresh on his tongue, but he bit it down, still unsure of what to make of any of this.

"Oh it's  _Harry_  now? Why in Merlin's name are you wearing  _his_  Muggle clothes, Malfoy?" Nott questioned. He still hadn't reached for his wand and seemed unconcerned about the wands in the boys' hands.

"Things change," Draco responded tightly, his eyes still mainly focused on Pansy, who was looking calculatingly between the two now.

"Things change?" Harry countered a little bitterly remembering the speech he was given not so many days ago. "Whatever happened to 'This is War, we don't have enough time to ponder' crap?"

Draco turned to Harry and shot him a glare, and the brunette knew this was not the place for any of that. The blond sighed and rolled his eyes, reaching out and yanking Harry by the wrist towards him. He pulled their lips harshly together and Harry relaxed for a moment into the touch before remembering just who they were kissing in front of. Draco pushed him away as quickly as he had kissed him and looked back at his shocked house mates.

"Draco, what did I just see?" Pansy asked softly after a silent moment.

"I do believe that was two people kissing, Pans," Nott said flatly, though he now seemed suddenly fascinated by Harry. Pansy quickly jabbed Nott in the ribs.

"Like I said, things change. That is not what is important now, we are running out of time. Will we need to duel you or will you make this easier for yourselves?" Draco asked lightly. Harry looked appalled at the calm nature of the three Slytherins.

"We knew you'd come back eventually, Draco. We also know we're no match to duel you. Together, maybe. But with you and Potter, it's hopeless. Just make it look like we struggled, would you?" Pansy asked.

"You're just going to let us go? Walk on by?" Harry was completely taken aback.

"Trust me, we'd rather not help the likes of  _you_. But Draco is our friend, Potter. We know what would happen if he were to get caught again and as much as I'd like to see you get your justice served, Draco doesn't deserve any of it," Pansy snapped.

"The Mudblood and the King are here too, aren't they?" Nott asked curiously.

Draco snorted. "They are in the other Wings."

"Serves the dirty blood right, Greyback is stationed there with Astoria and Marcus," Pansy said.

Harry's eyes went comically wide. "Greyback?! The werewolf? Draco, we need to go-"

"Granger can handle herself, Harry. So that leaves one, who else is there?" Draco felt Harry's panic, and placed his free hand on Harry's lower back, hoping to soothe his worry.

Nott and Pansy looked between themselves and they both began to grin before turning to Draco and shrugging. "I guess you'll just have to wait and see, won't you?" Pansy teased.

Draco narrowed his eyes. The secrecy could be indicative of either a good or a terrible fate awaiting them. Without any hesitation, Nott and Pansy allowed their wrists to be tied behind their backs by ropes. Their wands were confiscated and slipped into Harry's pocket. He was slightly amazed that they were allowing them to do this. They were walking ahead of them down the corridor now, without a falter in their step. "Where is he, whomever he is?" Draco drawled.

"Your favourite place, Dracey-poo," Pansy smirked as she looked behind her shoulder and saw Draco's narrowed eyes and the repulsion in his features.

Harry snorted at the nickname. " _Dracey-poo_?"

"Shut up, Potter. Now look what you've done, Pans, you are giving him bloody ideas," Draco said, exasperated.

Pansy giggled, "If I'm not around to torture you, might as well have somebody else do it for me."

Harry was grinning now. It was evident Draco did still have friends, people he could rely on despite his allegiances. For some reason, this gave Harry a small warmth in his heart. Whereas he had Ron and Hermione and the Order, Draco had nobody and he was glad he could find small comfort in knowing there were still others that cared for him. "What's your favourite place, dearest Dracey-poo?" Harry smiled wider at the dark glare Draco sent him, along with not only the giggle from Pansy, but also the chuckle that escaped Nott's throat.

"My bedroom," Draco ground out, obviously not appreciating the nickname.

"Tell me, Potter, what's it like?" Pansy asked suddenly.

"What is what like?"

Draco sighed. "Leave him alone, Parkinson."

"Not a chance. Now that somebody has finally stolen the great Draco Malfoy's first kiss, I'd like to know what it's like. We've been dying to know."

" _We_?"

"I must admit, it is a little bit odd you never fancied anybody at school. We were all a little curious as to why, but I guess it makes sense now," Nott conceded. "I mean, how could you fancy anybody else when you spent so much time getting the Wonder Boy's attention? It's not really a surprise seeing that this was why you wanted him to notice you so badly."

Harry blinked a few times, looking at Draco's mask slide quickly over his features, though he could see a hint of frustration flashing in his eyes. Harry allowed his hand to slip into Draco's, their digits automatically conjoined. Ignoring Nott's comment, he answered Pansy, "Draco is a fantastic kisser."

Pansy looked over at him, smiling with all teeth bared. "I bet he is." Her eyes twinkled in a way that was slightly unnerving to Harry, but he shot her a small smile in return. "But that's not it, is it? Draco's got a bit of a glow about him today, don't you think, Theo?"

Nott also peered back at him. "You know, you're right, Pans, he certainly does."

"Shut up," Draco ground out. Harry saw where they were going and a blush crept up his cheeks which unfortunately didn't go unnoticed by the Slytherin girl.

"I have seen enough Slytherin boys get some to know when they have," Nott smirked as Draco went to swipe his head and he ducked out of the way.

"We could petrify the two of you and drag you the rest of the way, you know," Draco warned.

"Not to mention Potter. He's got the 'I'm guilty of being buggered' look written all over his face!" Pansy laughed, obviously amused as Harry's blush deepened even further.

"You know, I'm beginning to second petrifying them both," Harry muttered.

"Can't believe we never saw it before, 'eh Pansy? I mean, the two of them, it just makes so much sense!"

Harry and Draco groaned in unison. It was a pretty long walk until they reached Draco's room. Once they reached it, the door was closed. Draco turned to Pansy and Nott and they nodded to him. He stunned the both of them and then extended the ropes on their wrists to wrap about their bodies. They allowed him to do so without a fight as they fell together before the door.

"Who do you think is in there?" Harry asked in a hush.

"I'm not sure. It will either be good for us or a terrible fate." Draco pushed the door open to the most massive bedroom Harry had ever seen. He had expected it to be darker, with shades of green and the Slytherin crest splashed against everything. From the quick survey, he was proved wholly wrong. The walls were a light beige, but the majority of the room was taken up by a large, expansive window overlooking one side of the Grounds. There were multiple dressers and a few doors which Harry assumed led to a closet and a bathroom. There was also a vanity which Harry found rather feminine of Draco to have in his bedroom. An armchair was set with a lamp near a window and a small table, a nice little crook for reading. Harry smiled. He could see Draco in everything in this room. Even the four poster, large bed with ivory sheets. The only thing completely not Draco about the room was the boy lying in his bed, hands folded underneath his head.

Draco pointed his wand at the olive skinned boy with narrowed eyes. "Get out of my bed if you know what is good for you, Zabini!" He snarled threateningly.

Blaise Zabini slowly stood, chuckling as he did. "You always did despise when anybody else sat in your bed. Or even stepped in your room, for that matter." Blaise reached into his sleeve and Harry steadied his wand as well, expecting the Slytherin to withdraw his wand, but instead, he pushed up his left sleeve to reveal a clean arm, devoid of any Dark Mark. Draco looked at him with surprise.

"But, how are you here then?" Draco asked slowly, confused.

"Snape. He keeps me here. Away from them and my parents," Blaise shrugged as he began to saunter towards the two, eyeing Harry most carefully. "You can put your wand away, Pothead."

"Not likely."

"Pans and Nott, them I can see allowing you to be here unmarked. But the others? Greyback?"

"They don't know I'm here. This is an unauthorized room, only Pansy and Nott are permitted. It, like the studies, is warded. I'm certain Snape will be here before long now that he's felt you two walk through the wards," Blaise was smirking as he stopped only a foot away from them now.

"Why?" Draco questioned, not about to blindly trust an unmarked Slytherin amongst Death Eaters.

"You think you're the only Slytherin who doesn't want to follow that madman? You think you're the only one of us who knew about Snape? He may be your Godfather, but he cares about us, too. That's why he keeps us here. Greyback wasn't his decision, it was Bella's," Blaise explained.

Draco was observing him carefully, Harry looking between the two. They seemed to have a silent conversation happening, as well as what he could hear. At long last, Draco lowered his wand and Blaise's smirk turned into a blinding smile that Harry found rather uncharacteristic of the boy. "I've missed you, Draco," he admitted truthfully.

Draco grunted and crossed his arms, "Of course you did, who wouldn't?"

Harry rolled his eyes at his lover's words.

"You're such a prat, Malfoy, as always. Some things never change. And some things do," Blaise's tone became serious as he gestured towards Harry who still had his wand raised at him. "Come, sit. We have a lot to talk about."

"Please, for the love of Merlin, let me get out of these horrendous clothes first," Draco groaned, looking longingly at his closet.

Both Blaise and Harry chuckled and spoke in unison, "Ponce."


	18. Odd Man Out

Harry was uncertain of what to make of the scene before him. Draco was immersed in his oversized closet – more befitting to call it a room in, Harry's opinion – tossing endless amounts of clothing into their bottomless bag Hermione had provided them with. Pansy and Nott were sitting on either arm of the chair by the window, whispering and snickering amongst themselves every few moments as Blaise hovered over Draco, arms crossed as he made dry comments about his excessive fashion wear. It was too unreal to him, watching the Slytherins at such a time interact with one another as they were. He just never imagined them to act so friendly.

"Do something useful, would you, Potter?" Draco called, snapping Harry out of his reverie.

"Hmm?"

"Gather my balms from the lavatory."

"Sure," Harry nodded dazedly and started towards the door at the far end of the room which he assumed was the bathroom. He paused after a moment, glancing back at Draco still shovelling clothes into the bag. "Shouldn't we be saving that bag for what we actually came here for?"

Draco rolled his eyes exasperatedly. "You do know that a bottomless bag is literally bottomless?" Harry merely playfully glared at him and continued off into the bathroom which in itself was once again three times the size of Harry's room back at the Dursleys.

Harry was quick to gather the balms which he found all lying atop the marble counter. When he turned to leave, Blaise Zabini was standing right behind him. Harry jumped, dropping a balm from his arms which the olive skinned boy quickly snatched mid-air, saving it from shattering against the tiled floor. "So, Malfoy finally got to you, did he?" Blaise drawled as he handed the balm back to Harry.

"I don't know what you mean," Harry mumbled, trying to step around the boy who blocked the doorway with his arm.

"Don't be daft, Potter. He's been fawning over you for ages. I didn't think it were actually possible, neither did he for that matter," Blaise grinned at the boys flaming cheeks.

"What didn't you think was possible?" Harry asked carefully after a moment.

Blaise's grin grew wider, he leaned down, his face hovering before Harry's. "For you to fall in love with him, too."

"What? I don't, no – I don't -" he began to protest.

"No, of course you don't." Blaise patted his shoulder before turning to rejoin the others back in Draco's room again. Harry took a moment to regain himself, fighting the blush from his face.

Once Draco had finished gathering what he thought necessary, the five of them cautiously left the room. They made their way to Draco's father's study, where they were to meet with Hermione and Ron. The whole walk there, the Slytherins spoke amicably amongst one another, Harry dragged his feet in behind the group, watching Draco's relaxed, comfortable behaviour amongst his friends. Every once in a while,somebody would turn their head back towards Harry and cast a dark or calculating look. Just before they arrived, Pansy detached herself from Nott's side and fell back to Harry, and casually nudged him with her elbow.

"Isn't he great?"

"Er, yeah, I guess," Harry nodded, looking up at Draco speaking animatedly with the boys.

"You guess?" Pansy scoffed, "He's bloody gorgeous! Any Slytherin, boy or girl, would have killed to have him back in school. But no, he always said they weren't worth his time. But  _you_  were. You were always worth his time. Consider yourself lucky, Potter."

Harry found himself smiling again at the girl. There was something oddly charismatic about her now that he had never seen before back at Hogwarts. "I do, thanks."

Pansy smiled sweetly in return. "So," she leaned in to whisper, "What's it like, the two of you in bed? My imagination is simply running wild thinking about it. C'mon and tease a girl, would you?"

He chortled, briefly thinking about how open she was compared to Hermione or any other Gryffindor he had interacted with for that matter. "The exact same as we are out of bed, I imagine."

At long last, they reached Lucius' study. Only moments after arriving there, they were greeted by a frantic Ron, pale in the face as he held a drained looking Hermione in his arms. Harry's heart dropped. He rushed over to them with Draco not far behind. Ron looked flabbergasted at the slew of Slytherins that merely watched the commotion.

"What's wrong with her? What happened?" Harry quickly asked and without thought or pulling out his wand, he reached out his hands, placing them over Hermione's head. From his palms grew a soft, warm light that hovered between him and his friend. He ran it over her body, eyebrows knitted.

Ron watched between Harry and the Slytherins carefully before explaining. "If I could have taken care of Flint faster than I did, this wouldn't have happened. Crabbe and Goyle are out of commission, they're still in front of the parlour as are the other three. Flint and Greengrass should be knocked out still as well."

"And Greyback?" Draco asked cautiously. He was truly the only threat to them in the Manor.

"Hermione obliviated and roped him right after he did this," Ron maneuvered the passed out girl in his arms to reveal a deep and fresh bite. It looked as if to be human and inhuman teeth that caused it at the same time. "She was coherent for a moment or two before she began convulsing. I know we were supposed to bring the bodies up here to keep an eye on them but I couldn't risk it, I don't know what's wrong with her!"

"It's not a full moon meaning that Greyback cannot turn her. A lycans bite delivered from their human form causes the inflicted to become sick as if with the flu and to gain certain attributes of the lycan themselves. They say it can last from three to six months. A lycans untransformed bite is fatal to Muggle's but only a nuisance to Wizards," Pansy spoke up evenly. Ron, clutching Hermione's body in his arms, was nodding slowly. This was good news.

"Unfortunately for Granger, she isn't exactly a Witch," Nott said evenly.

"What does that mean? She's a Witch! Just because she is Muggleborn doesn't make her any less of a-"

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, King Weasel," Blaise snapped, "It simply means that the infection may be harsher for hers than it is for others and take longer to leave her system."

Ron breathed a sigh of relief and turned to Harry who was still concentrating on the light he was conjuring between himself and Hermione. "What are you doing, Harry?" he asked concernedly. He was hovering the light directly over the wound.

"Trying to lessen the spread of infection. I think I can stop the bleeding, too."

"Impressive, Potter," Pansy complimented. "However, a lycan's bite is something even the greatest Healers have difficulties mending. It is best to let her rest, her body is trying to cope with the invasion."

"She will be fine," Draco said softly, putting his hand on Harry's lower back. "She just needs to rest. My Father was bit by a lycan in human form once, the symptoms may seem extreme at first but they will come to pass," he assured both the Gryffindors.

Harry allowed his light to fade. "What about the others? You said they're all unconscious?" Harry asked Ron who nodded slowly, he was mostly concerned with Hermione though his eyes kept wavering to the Slytherins. "They're fine," Harry said flippantly in their direction, "Just worry about 'Mione and getting what we need so we can get out of here and her home to rest."

"Nott, Pans, could you ever be so kind and escort the unconscious intruders of my Manor into the dungeons?"

Pansy and Nott both nodded, "Fine, but that's the last favour you're getting from us today, Malfoy," Nott warned though there was a slight note of bemusement to his voice.

"Within the study is a faux fireplace. Beyond it is a room devoid of any wards. You may Apparate Granger to Grimmauld Place. She will need rest. I will send Tally along with a few Potions I know we have in our stores that can help her heal faster," Draco explained to Ron who seemed speechless yet grateful at the help.

"Remember boys, the minute these doors open Snape will be called here. Depending on his circumstances his absence can be seen as suspicious," Blaise reminded them.

Draco nodded, "In other words, we must be quick." He pushed open the doors to his Father's study. Harry thought he would be slack jawed at the expansiveness but after seeing Draco's room he was no longer surprised at the wealth of the Manor. The study was lined with what seemed like endless books, nearly as many as Hogwarts owned. There were several desks though the center one was obviously that of the Master's. There was a sitting area and two fireplaces. Draco was quick to direct Ron to the faux fireplace, he escorted him inside where he Disapparated back to Grimmauld Place.

"Do you remember what books we need, Harry?" Draco asked, his lover nodded quickly, "It would be faster to summon them rather than look. I will retrieve all the Potion ingredients and equipment. Blaise, you-"

"Stand here and look pretty? I can do that," Blaise snickered as Draco rolled his eyes and set off to his Father's desk.

"So tell me about him. About Snape. Has he really been working for Dumbledore this entire time?" Harry asked between the summoning of books. He already had a decent pile of them, his wand withdrawn as well as the list of books Draco had scribbled out he deemed useful.

"Yes and no," Blaise shrugged, taking a seat on one of the couches in the middle of the study. "Snape is a good man. He knows right from wrong. He also knows what it's like to be a Slytherin and to have your family force you into a place where you don't want to be; force you to follow a madman. All he cares for is doing what is right, for protecting those of us he can from what he was never protected from."

Harry frowned, "I knew that if Dumbledore trusted him as blindly as he did he had to have been trusted."

"He wouldn't have done it," Draco said softly from his Father's desk, he was clinking around in the drawers, there were vials of this and that inside. "If it were not for the Unbreakable Vow he made with my Mother, he would not have killed him."

"You don't know that, he probably still would have-"

"He would have rather died than kill somebody he cared about," Draco cut him off shortly. "Sev is a very caring man." Harry couldn't help but scoff at that. "What, you don't believe me, Harry? All Severus ever did was because of love."

"Love? But he's not even ever been married. For the love of  _what_  did he do anything for?" Harry returned, it wasn't that he was doubting Snape's allegiances because he certainly wasn't any more. It was just that his motives seemed confusing at best.

Draco stopped momentarily to look steadily at Harry from across the study. "For the love of a woman. A woman he could never have but could never stop loving."

Harry blinked a few times. So Snape was in love? That was certainly news. "Who is it?"

"Was it," Draco corrected softly. His features were oddly stoic as he observed Harry's reactions to his words, "It was your Mother."

Harry's wand dropped with a clatter to the floor. He felt very suddenly numb, his head dazed and vision blurred. Maybe he was dreaming. Yes, that would indeed make more sense, that this was a dream. Draco watched him for a moment longer before continuing his retrieval. When he was done he finished collecting the books. He placed everything in the bottomless bag as Harry soundlessly made his way to sit across from an equally shocked Blaise.

The door to the study opened just as Draco was tying up the bottomless bag. In came Pansy and Nott, both with smug smirks. "All locked away, still unconscious. I hate to be the one to admit it but those damn Gryffindor's are good at their Stunning Charms," Pansy said.

A crack sounded from just beside Draco causing the blond to startle slightly at Tally's sudden appearance. "He is here, Master Draco! He has come! Tally is warning Master just like he was told to!"

"Who is it, Tally?"

"Master's Godfather, sir! Quickly, Master cannot be-"

"Your Master is safe within these walls, Tally." Snape's voice sounded softly from the door. Everybody turned to the older man, it seemed Harry was the only cautious one as he automatically withdrew his wand. Flashes of the last night he saw him sprang to his mind but he quickly attempted in burying them.

The Potion's Master looked worn and much older than he truly was. The lines in his grey face etched so deeply now, his mouth fell into a permanent frown even as he tried to smile at his Godson who bound toward him, wrapping his arms tightly around the man. Harry found Draco's immediate affections for the man odd to bear witness to, he merely stood still, his wand still clutched though not raised in his hand. Snape looked over his Godson's shoulder at the brunette and pursed his lips, "I see you took my advice then," he said flatly.

"Of course I did, you were right, I had nowhere else to go."

"Nowhere else that would have kept you safe in the least. Potter is indeed insufferably charitable even to his worst enemies," Snape drawled, his eyes fleeting back to Harry.

_'I can't believe this man was – is – in love with my Mother. It must be why he's hated me so much all these years,_ ' he thought idly.

Pansy was giggling behind them all, "Enemies. Sure, if that's the new term for lovers."

Draco immediately shot her a dark, heavy look which caused her only to giggle more. Snape merely raised his eyebrows and looked between both Harry and Draco, neither of them protesting her words told him all he needed to know. "I cannot say I condone such a thing-"

"I'm not asking you to," Draco shortly snapped.

"-But if you found more than just sanctuary from the boy, then I am pleased I sent you to him," he finished, revelling in the look of surprise he received from all occupants of the room.

"Me too," Harry finally spoke up, Snape turned a questioning eye on him. "Er, I mean, I'm glad you sent him to me, too. He was nearly dead when he got there."

"Not like you helped much. Left me in a ghastly excuse for a hospital. Ever since my experience there I must say I am astounded Muggle's have survived as long as they have," Draco sneered.

"Although I find this reunion with Potter here touching, my absence will not go unnoticed much longer. I must know, have you figured it out?" he asked Draco urgently.

Draco smirked, "Of course I have, who do you take me for? I may be in relations with Harry but that doesn't mean I have stooped to his level of intelligence."

"And do you have what you need from here? It would be a relief to give this Manor over to Bellatrix again, I have to give my full attentions to Hogwarts."

He nodded, "I have everything that is of use. The rest of what we need, however, is quite a bit more difficult to retrieve. We will be able to do so, in time."

"Very well. It would be best for you to leave as soon as you can, Draco, this place is not safe the longer I am here. And your parents, I have had them buried. If you would like to visit their graves do so in secrecy, it is on my family plot," Snape said, his frown deepening as he watched Draco's mask expertly slide into place although the slight quiver in his eyes said more than the slight, curt nod.

"Thank you, Sev. I hope to see you soon again," he turned to start towards the faux fireplace, grabbing onto Harry's wrist as he did. "And you guys…take care of each other, would you?"

"You too," Pansy smiled.

"Take care of our Prince there, 'eh, Potter?" Blaise smirked, Harry nodded, grinning in return.

Snape and Draco held each other's eyes for a long moment before the older man spoke slowly. "Good luck, to the both of you."

Draco nodded and led Harry through the mantle, without a seconds pause he Apparated the two of them to the doorstep of Grimmauld Place. Before Harry could reach for the door, Draco had him forcefully in his arms. He crashed their lips together and began to hungrily kiss the brunette. Harry, though surprised, eased into the touch and kissed Draco back.

 


	19. Parting Ways

**Chapter Nineteen  
** **Parting Ways**

"Look at me, Draco."

Draco moaned softly and obeyed his lover, wrenching his eyes open. He was taken aback by all the passion, all the care, he saw swimming in those emerald eyes hovering closely over him. His body was covered in Harry's sweaty, slowly moving one. Their chests rose and fell together, and Harry's hair fell against Draco's sticky skin, tickling his neck and cheeks. "Is this alright?"

"Yes," hissed Draco, unable to bring himself to say more. The weight of Harry and the pressure of feeling him buried inside him was overwhelming, let alone those striking eyes bearing into him.

"Does it feel good?" Harry rasped, forcing himself to cease his hips from bucking into Draco harder, faster.

"Merlin,  _yes_ , Harry. Give me more," Draco demanded through gritted teeth. Harry groaned and immediately responded to the demand. He leaned down over Draco and brought their lips together, kissing him hastily.

Neither were certain just how long they were there before they collapsed beside one another on the sweat-stained bed, heaving. Harry took Draco into his arms, forcing his head to his chest as their legs intertwined. "Bloody hell, no wonder people go on about sex all the time, it's fantastic," Harry breathed.

Draco found himself chuckling, "Well, I doubt all sex is that fantastic. Just when you're good at it, that is." Harry grinned down at Draco and pulled him closer, burying his face in his fine hair. "We are both new to this, Harry, just imagine how fantastic we will be after a little practice."

"I don't know, I'm not sure it can get any better than that."

"Oh?" Draco smirked. Despite his newly aching muscles, he used the last of his energy to prop himself up on his elbows, hovering over Harry. "I have a thought of certain restraints that tells me otherwise."

Harry grinned widely, although he was exhausted. The thought of Draco's implication nearly had him fully roused once more. "Mm…perhaps you're right, maybe it can get better."

Draco leaned down, sucking Harry's lower lip momentarily before nestling back into his chest. "Much better, I assure you."

The two didn't emerge from the bedroom all afternoon until the next morning. It had been just over a week since their escapades in Malfoy Manor. They'd mostly just poured over books since, as Hermione's condition slowly improved each day, especially with the help of a few potions Draco had brewed for her with their spare ingredients. They knew what must be done now, as they had retrieved exactly what was needed from the Manor. Draco found the counter to Mauvais' potion and the only difficulty in brewing it would be the retrieval of its key components. Harry was none too pleased about the list of them, but together with Draco, they were soon to set off to gather them. Where to, they weren't exactly positive, but they knew where they could begin.

Ron planned to stay with Hermione until she was well enough to travel again, which would most likely not be for another month or two. Draco highly advised them to be out of commission during the days surrounding the full moon and to also take a Wolfsbane Potion to assist with any symptoms that may occur.

Ron spent most of his time by her bedside, studying along with her, taking notes when she ordered him to, their hands usually clasped together lazily on the bed sheets. Harry was currently cooking breakfast, flapjacks, in the kitchen when Draco joined him after his morning shower. The blond immediately wrapped his arms around Harry's waist at the stove. Harry leaned back into the touch as he continued. Draco kissed the nape of his neck before resting his chin on his shoulder. "Cooking? Why not have Kreacher make something for you?"

Harry shrugged. "It's our second last morning here, I thought it'd be nice if I cooked something for everybody. Especially for 'Mione, she loves flapjacks."

Draco smiled. "It smells good." He took a deep breath and sighed elatedly, "You do, too."

Harry dropped his spatula for a moment beside the stove and pivoted to face Draco, wrapping his arms around his waist and grinning up at him. "You look good and smell almost edible." Ever since Draco was able to retrieve his balms and clothing, he truly did.

"I would say you looked good, but you didn't put on the clothes I picked out for you this morning. Instead, you're in those horrid rags again," Draco grimaced.

"If I wore your clothes I'd look like a ponce."

Draco leaned forward, smirking against Harry's lips, knowing it would make the brunette shiver beneath his touch. "I'll show you who the ponce is, Potter."

Just before Harry was able to kiss the words off Draco's mouth, a disgruntled sound alerted them from the doorway, causing Harry to nearly jump out of his skin. He withdrew himself from Draco to greet a flustered looking Ron. "Sorry, Ron. G'morning."

Ron took a seat at the table looking rather flushed as he always did when he saw the boys in close proximity. "You two are like bloody newlyweds. Every time you're in a room alone together…" he trailed off and shuddered.

"Just because you fail to get some action, Weasel, does not mean you have to chastise others for having it," Draco drawled, taking a seat opposite the redhead with his arms crossed.

"Draco," Harry hissed warningly as he returned to his cooking. "Is 'Mione awake? How is she feeling?"

"She is feeling just fine," her weary voice came in from the doorway as she quickly joined Ron's side at the table.

Everybody looked at her in surprise; it was her first day out of bed. "Hermione! You shouldn't be walking around, you should've at least called me to come help you down the stairs!" Ron quickly said, turning to her full of concern as he grabbed her hand. "Are you alright? What can I get you?"

"Calm down, Ronald, I'm fine," Hermione tittered, though she was blushing slightly at his concern. "Good morning Harry, Draco."

"Nice to see you walking around again, 'Mione. How do you feel about flapjacks this morning?" Harry grinned at the way her face immediately lit up at the mention of them.

"Thanks, Harry, flapjacks sound wonderful, actually," she smiled, "And tea, if you wouldn't mind?"

"Allow me," Draco offered, standing up swiftly from the table. Harry shot him a sidelong grateful look as Ron and Hermione looked flabbergasted at his back.

"Er, thanks, Draco," Hermione said slowly.

"Mmhm. Did you take your potions this morning, Granger?"

Hermione nodded as Draco sat back down at the table, waiting for the kettle to boil that he just placed on the stove beside Harry's flapjack pan. "Good. Any side effects as of yet?"

"Other than the lethargy? No, not that I can tell. I don't know how to thank you enough, I don't know where I would be without the potions," she said earnestly.

Draco shrugged noncommittally. "You were injured in my home, it is only right that I do what I can to assist in your recovery."

"It means a lot to all of us," Harry smiled over his shoulder at Draco, who had to bite his smile down in return. He still wasn't comfortable enough to allow his emotions to show before the other two Gryffindors, especially when one of them was still constantly weary of him.

"You're still a bastard though, Malfoy," Ron piped up. Hermione cast him a glare which he shrugged off.

"And you will always be a Weasel."

Hermione shook her head, sighing. "Were you able to finish all the other potions?"

Draco stood again, preparing tea as Harry was plating the flapjacks now. "The ones my Father's kitchen already didn't have a sufficient supply of, yes. It was not that difficult. Though, teaching Harry potions is absolutely dismal. I can understand Sev's growing abhorrence."

Harry smacked Draco on the top of the arm. "Hey now. Keep talking like that and you won't be getting any flapjacks."

Hermione stifled a giggle as both boys joined them now at the table, pushing plates of hot food and fresh tea before everybody. "I can't believe I'm about to say this out aloud, but the two of you are perfect together. How come nobody has ever seen it before?"

Ron looked appalled at Hermione and screeched, "How can you say that? 'Mione, that's disgusting! I mean, fine, whatever you two are whatever the bloody hell you are-"

"Boyfriends?" Draco supplied coolly, lifting his steaming tea to his mouth to cover his smirk. Harry flashed Draco a look. He had never heard it said so flippantly and he found his face growing warm at the unfamiliarity of the word.

"It makes sense, Ronald. They have been constantly craving each other's attention for seven years now. Remember Harry last year? Malfoy this, Malfoy that. Sorry guys, I have to go follow Malfoy," Hermione mocked bravely and then looked at Harry's slightly horrified face and clamped her mouth shut.

"Oh? What's this about last year, Harry?" Draco drawled, turning to Harry with a wide smirk that melted the brunette in his seat.

"I'll tell you about last year as soon as you tell me what Blaise was on about back at the Manor," Harry returned defensively, fighting down his embarrassed blush.

Draco raised his brow and turned silently to his flapjacks. The four ate in silence, Ron sending the couple sceptical looks every few moments as he always did, but every day he seemed to grow more accustomed to the thought of them.

Once breakfast was finished, the four set off to finish packing for Harry and Draco. "Have you at least packed your clothes?"

"Yes."

"No, I haven't-"

"There is no way you are bringing your ghastly clothing-"

"I am not wearing your clothes, Draco!"

"I wore yours for  _weeks_. At least you look good in mine! Yes, clothing is packed, potions as well. We just need food supplies, shelter and books," Draco explained.

Hermione nodded slowly. "I think I've enough energy to gather the books. Ron, ask Kreacher to help with the food supplies, enough for two for at least a few months. Harry, do you remember where Mr Weasley put the tent?"

Harry nodded, lazily saluting her. "Aye, Aye, captain!" Hermione shot him a half-hearted glare. They set off to do their assigned tasks, Harry leading Draco down to the basement.

"I never knew Grimmauld Place had a dungeon," Draco commented curiously.

Harry rolled his eyes, taking Draco by the hand as he led him down the stairs. "It's not a dungeon, Draco, it's a basement."

"Is there a difference?"

"Plenty, actually."

"Clearly," Draco sniffed as Harry flicked on a light in the dimly lit, dank basement. There were things strewn about in a haphazard manner. Piles of untouched boxes, dust piling on them for years. Harry was already riffling through it, easily finding what he was looking for and stowing it quickly in their bottomless bag. "It smells vile down here. What is that stench?"

Harry shrugged. "Mildew. I don't need any help down here."

"Good. I am not perfectly trusting of Weasel yet, I bet he is trying to find a way to poison the food. Supervision is of upmost necessity." Draco took another look around as Harry was still riffling through a pile of nick knacks before returning back to the kitchen. Ron was standing in the kitchen, nearly all the cupboards open, with a blank expression. "Lost?"

Ron jumped at the voice and blushed. "Shove off, Malfoy. I'm perfectly capable of packing food." The redhead pushed a few cans of corn aside and knit his eyebrows at what appeared to be canisters of spices.

"Are you sure about that?" Draco drawled, pulling out a chair at the table and sitting down.

Ron turned to Draco, fists clenched in a sudden fury. "Not all of us had House Elves bowing down to our every whim every second of the day, Malfoy! Some of us actually learned how to cook."

Draco found himself smirking and leaned forward on his elbows. He raised an eyebrow at the frustrated redhead and asked, "And did you?" His spluttered response caused Draco to chuckle beneath his breath. "Calm down, Weasel. You have that same look on your face that Harry gets when he's picking out clothes. I can tell a lost cause when I see one. Kreacher?" Draco called.

Immediately there was a poof and the gangly old House Elf appeared. He bowed lowly, his tea cosy scrapping the ground. "Master Malfoy. What can Kreacher do for you?"

"I will be leaving on an excursion. Please provide all the necessary provisions for at least three months for two persons. We have a bottomless bag it can be packed into. You have your Master's permission to leave the grounds to obtain it all," Draco ordered quickly.

The House Elf nodded. "Anything for Master Malfoy, my pleasure, sir." He looked over his shoulder at Ron and sneered before disappearing.

"Now that is how a Wizard properly packs."

Ron shook his head. "I just don't bloody get it," he whispered at long last, taking a seat at the table.

"House Elves respect their rightful Pureblood Master's, as they should, it is quite simple-"

"No, not that, I'm not a dunce. It's you," Ron took a deep breath, "And him. I don't get it."

Draco was intrigued. This was the calmest Ron had ever been bringing up their relationship and Harry wasn't even in their presence. "In light of difficult circumstances and with similar short term goals, we discovered we actually liked one another Wea- _Ron_ ," Draco corrected himself.

Ron looked like a deer caught in headlights as he peered up at Draco, shocked completely still from his rightful name being used. "I-I get that," he stammered, "But how, is what I don't understand. You two are bloody opposites in everything. Harry would never treat a House Elf the way you do. He would never stand for Pureblood breeding like you do. Not to mention he's not a pompous, arrogant, git."

"What about being in love says that you have to become the exact same person? I am certain Granger and yourself do not share every aspect of your personalities."

Ron's mouth had fallen open, he was sputtering, "Did you just…Malfoy, did you just say you were in lo-"

"AH!"

A yelp resonated from the basement. Draco stood so fast he knocked his chair over and bolted towards the basement. Harry was already making his way quickly up, a strangled expression on his face as he was cradling his right hand. "What is it? What's happened?" Draco asked hurriedly, grabbing Harry's hand and taking it into his own.

"Er," Harry blushed at the concern, looking passed Draco to Ron who was sitting still, a shocked expression still gracing his features. "Didn't you feel that too? The Oath? I know we've been practicing pushing its boundaries so we can be in the same place but not the same room…but bloody hell, it burned like mad!"

Draco nodded, tracing his initials on Harry's wrist, seeing there was no visible damage. "Is it alright now?"

Harry nodded.

"I felt it, but it did not quite pain me yet."

Harry frowned and the leaned forward. "So, was he trying to poison the food?" he joked lightly in a whisper.

The blond grinned. "He was as lost as I am when it comes to the subject of food."

"Ah. And?"

Draco shrugged. "I just ordered Kreacher to get it all for us."

"You shouldn't have done that," Harry chastised lightly and Draco shrugged. "I found something downstairs. It looks like a box of Sirius' old things."

"Oh?"

"I was thinking, since we have the rest of the afternoon, maybe I could-"

"Of course. Why not bring it up though, it is much too morbid down there," Draco suggested and Harry nodded, turning to look over his shoulder.

" _Accio_ _b_ _ox_ ," he called. Within a few moments, the newly pried open box, like a miniature school trunk, was in Harry's arms, and he brought it to the kitchen.

Harry dropped the trunk down on the table with a loud thud, finally startling Ron from his reverie. "What the bloody hell is that?"

"It looks like a bunch of Sirius' old things," Harry said shortly, his fingers tracing the initials 'S. Black' on the front side of the trunk.

Ron's face fell at the name. "Maybe I'll er, go on and check on 'Mione, then," he slowly stood.

"When you return, perhaps you could bring that Wizard's Chess set of yours? I have heard this rumour that you are the best Chess player Hogwarts has ever seen. Luckily for you, I had yet to play chess at school," Draco looked pointedly at Harry who still traced the engraved letters.

Ron nodded understandingly. "You're on, Malfoy."

Once the redhead had left the room, Draco immediately embraced Harry from behind where he still stood hovering over the small trunk. He kissed the nape of his neck gently. "Thanks, Draco. For trying with Ron. I appreciate it."

"I know," he kissed him softly again. His hands were clasped at his mid-drift and Harry's own hands fell to land on them.

"I miss him. He was like a parent to me. It was like losing them all over again," Harry whispered and immediately groaned, "Listen to me! I'm so sorry Draco! I shouldn't talking about this after what happened to-"

"It's fine, Harry. I'm fine. We are all entitled to our own grief," Draco said shortly, holding Harry a little tighter.

Harry sighed. "At least all this grief won't be for nothing. At least their sacrifices won't be in vain. I won't let it be."

"It won't be. Tomorrow we can start paying Voldemort back for all that he took from us."

* * *

"So…to America?"

Draco nodded beneath the Invisibility Cloak. "Exactly. To America. H.P Lovecraft lived in Rhode Island which is where we shall go to begin our journey. All of the ingredients necessary for the antidote are relative to the exact ingredients, including the area which they derived from, so it is our best place to begin."

"And how?"

They stopped abruptly and Draco turned back to him. "There are many travelling services for Wizards. Many will be monitored, hence the need for our stock of Polyjuice Potions."

"Ah, I see. And how exactly are we supposed to take out money from my vault when I've suddenly become Undesirable Number One?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "You're really quite thick, aren't you? Of course you won't be going to your vault, there is plenty in the Malfoy family vaults that can be withdrawn. There is no strict patrol at Gringotts and the goblins will think nothing of a Malfoy withdrawing copious funds."

"Oh," Harry said dumbly. "How does this travelling system work? Is it a network of Floo Networks or something?"

"Floo Networks, Portkeys, set flight path brooms. The closest available path to Rhode Island, however, is through some place called West Canada. We will have to fly or figure our way from there, there doesn't seem to be any travelling services in the United States," Draco explained quietly. They were currently shuffling along, one after the other, through Diagon Alley where they had Apparated to with use of the Invisibility Cloak. It was not as nearly packed as Harry was accustomed it to being. Everybody moved along slowly, quietly, keeping their heads down and mouths shut.

"We could always just travel the Muggle way. It takes a bit longer, but it's got to be much less hassle. No Polyjuice, no finding our way from here to there," Harry suggested.

Draco automatically grimaced. "You mean in those ghastly car thingys? No, Potter."

"No. I meant in a plane," Harry snorted. The sudden visual of Draco riding alongside him in an airplane almost overwhelmed him. For some reason, he found it absolutely hilarious. Draco turned to him with an accusing glare. "Draco Malfoy in a plane! Oh, we have to do it!" he chortled.

"What is this plane mechanism? What does it do? How does it travel?" he asked warily.

Harry looked at him with surprise which turned into a crooked smile. "It's how Muggles fly."

Draco's horrified and confused expression caused Harry to clamp his hands over his mouth, muffling his raucous laughter.

 


	20. The Ingredients

**Chapter Twenty  
The Ingredients**

"You really think they'll be gone that long?"

Hermione slowly nodded. She was weary from the activity of the morning, from holding back tears in the corners of her eyes as Harry and Draco had disappeared a split moment before them. She was lying in Ron's welcoming, nervous arms. This was new to them. Embracing lazily on the drawing room couch in the nearly emptied Grimmauld Place.

"It's just five ingredients to create the Potion. Honestly, how long can five ingredients take to gather?" Ron asked, the hint of concern in his voice not going unnoticed. It seemed now that he was able to witness the more open relationship between Harry and Draco. He understood the blond was beginning to mean a lot to his friend. Without being consciously aware of it, Ron was worried for the both of them.

"The ingredients are very specific in nature. They must be gathered from the same place the original ones were gathered from. First they must learn of the exact birthplace of Mauvais himself. After that, the first ingredient is simple. Dirt from the first made sacred ground of where the Potion was brewed," Hermione explained slowly.

Ron nodded, he had heard that before, but Draco had never gone further and explained what came next. "That's not so bad. I mean, after they figure out where the sacred ground is. What are the other four?"

Hermione swallowed. She didn't like thinking of it, she knew of the hardships that Harry and Draco were about to be faced with. "The blood of an innocent. Specifically, the blood of a Muggle."

"What?!" Ron screamed, looking appallingly down at Hermione who flinched at the raise in his voice. "That's insane! Does Harry know that they have to kill somebody for this?! They can't!"

"I know. He won't," she whispered frowning, idly thinking of how convicted Draco was to brewing the Potion. Would he be the one to make that horrible sacrifice that would justify the ends to their means? "They'll figure out a way around it. I'm sure."

Ron felt sick to his stomach, Hermione didn't sound very certain. "And the others?"

"The third is the hair of a Demiguise."

"The Demiguise?" Ron asked confusedly.

"Rumoured to be the same creature's hair that created the Invisibility Cloak. The Demiguise can make itself invisible at will. It is found only, and very rarely so, in Eastern lands. They are big, great ape-like creatures, though not at all vicious. They are quite peaceful and feel easily threatened despite their size."

"Oh, well. That shouldn't be too hard then, right?"

Hermione shook her head. "The hardest part of it will be finding the Demiguise. After that, they must gather the Erumpent horn. It must be fresh and added directly to the previous ingredients. It is essential the ingredients are gathered and put together in order. They can sit for long periods of time together, but adding them out of order can be catastrophic."

"An Erumpent? Those things are massive, 'Mione! I've heard Dad talk about them before. Some African fellows who were reporting to the Ministry got attacked by one, barely any survivors!"

"Yes, well, they're not very forgiving creatures."

They sat for a moment in silence, Ron feeling himself getting sicker by the second at the thought of what the two boys would have to go through to complete their potion. "And the final ingredient?"

Hermione's frown deepened. "The blood from the brewer's kin. Not a little bit, either. Quarts of it. Enough to kill a person."

"But…neither Harry nor Draco have any living-Oh," Ron stopped himself and looked down at Hermione, petrified. " _No._  He can't mean to. Does he?"

"We're not certain of it. I'm not even sure Harry knows of all the necessary ingredients. Only Draco. The only living kin to either of them is the Dursleys."

"But, even after all they've done, Harry won't kill them. Will he?"

Hermione shook her head. "Of course not."

"What exactly does Malfoy plan to do then!?"

"We can't be certain, Ronald. All we know is that it has to be done. It may truly be the only way to stop Voldemort. After what's been happening at Hogwarts and the Ministry, we don't have much more time to bide ourselves with. People are dying every day. Muggles, Purebloods, half-bloods. Something has to be done about it all. Harry and Draco are doing the best they can," Hermione assured him, even though she herself wasn't entirely sure that the sacrifices they were going to make were worth it at all.

Ron sighed heavily, easing into the couch and pulling her weak form closer into him. "I just wish there was something we could do to help them."

"There will be. There is. Once I've recovered from Fenrir's bite, we can finish what we were left to do. We have to inform all the remaining Order members of Voldemort's true identity. We have to retrieve the final Horcruxes, all but that which lays at Hogwarts," she reminded him.

"I know. And the Horcrux potion too, right?"

"Exactly. But first, I think it best that once I've recovered, we meet with the Order."

"Good. Mom and Dad, I know they're nearly off their rocker about us already."

"For now, this is okay though, isn't it?" Hermione asked softly, stifling a yawn.

Ron smiled tiredly, burying his head in her bushy hair and mumbling, "Yes. For now, this is perfect."

* * *

 

Draco's hands gripped either side of his uncomfortable seat. He was tapping his feet nervously, and his eyes darted from the window to Harry constantly, unable to sit still as he began to perspire. Harry knew, considering the circumstances, he shouldn't be happy, but he couldn't hold back his smile, especially at Draco's sudden anxiety.

Harry leaned over, bringing his arm about Draco's shoulders. "It's fine. Flying is safer than driving by far."

"I hardly believe that, Potter. I swear, if I die in this monstrosity, I will kill you," Draco hissed dangerously. Harry grinned widely at that. "Muggles are insane. How have they survived this long?"

"Who knows. There are many who should have been finished off by natural selection years ago," Harry laughed. "Honestly, here, let me do a relaxation charm for you."

"Do you know any?"

Harry shrugged. "I can see if I do." He reached over the seat with one hand and placed it over Draco's, the other gripping his shoulder. He looked quickly about, seeing most passengers were still settling into their seats and the seat beside him was still vacant. Harry closed his eyes, concentrating on a calming feeling rushing from him to Draco. A soft, warm light emitted momentarily between them before he removed his hands. Draco immediately relaxed into his seat sighing. "There, is that better?"

"Much."

"We should try to get some sleep so we can get to work as soon as we get there," but Harry's suggestion went mostly unheard, as by the end of his sentence, Draco was already in a slumber.

* * *

It took them two days to find H.P Lovecraft's home and to study all the places he had gone, as was recorded, in his lifetime. They felt at a loss until one old newspaper lead brought them to an old reporter's home, somebody who reviewed the famed author many times. He was a frail, old man nearing the end of his time, but was more than happy to accommodate visitors curious about the life of H.P Lovecraft.

They were sitting on his small porch in a rocker each, the cool fall air pushing against them. "Lovecraft was a strange man. Very secretive. He did many…unexplainable things."

Harry and Draco exchanged knowing looks. "We were actually curious about where he travelled. Specifically when he was writing The Alchemist," Harry explained.

The old man nodded slowly, folding his hands across his swollen abdomen. "That was one of his better shorts. He spent many months up north at that time during his life. It was a very secluded cabin, a few others about, but not much other than that."

"Do you remember exactly where the cabin is?" Harry asked, knowing it must be it, it must be where Lovecraft came to know the birth of Mauvais.

"I do. Are you two reporters?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. For most of their interactions with Muggles thus far, Harry had done the talking. "Yes, actually. We are trying to find the real life influences to many of his stories."

"Well, I can tell you that Michael Mauvais isn't real, m'boy, but he did mention in one interview that he named him after an odd sort of fellow that lived right near his cabin. Excuse me one moment, my memory is not quite what it used to be, I can go get the address for you."

Once the old man slowly stood and wobbled back into his house, Harry turned to the blond excitedly. "That must be it. Voldemort probably came from here before moving out to Britain."

"Makes complete sense, he always did have an odd accent."

"So from there, all we need is dirt, correct?"

"Yes. Then comes the hard part."

"What's that?"

Draco turned to Harry with a solemn look. "The blood of a Muggle."

Harry's face turned ghost white and before he could protest, the old man was back again, using his cane as his primary support. He reached out and handed Draco a slip of paper with uneven scrawling on it. "Thank you so much for your time, sir. It is much appreciated."

"Any time, young man. When you get to be my age, you relish company no matter the reason."

As soon as the two were out of earshot, Harry turned to Draco in a flurry. "You knew this from the moment you read the Potion, didn't you?" he demanded angrily. Draco pursed his lips and nodded. "Why didn't you tell me?!"

"Because I knew you'd have a fit. Which is, my guess, the same reasoning as to why Granger kept it to herself." Draco's tone was even, calm, he knew Harry wouldn't be too pleased about the ingredients they would have to collect.

"How much?" Harry ground out, "How much blood of a Muggle do we have to get? Do we have to…Draco, no, don't tell me we have to kill them! I can't, you can't, we can't!" he protested, his face turning paler by the moment.

Draco gripped both of Harry's forearms, shaking him gently. "It will not come to that, Harry, calm down. Only a pint is necessary, which will not kill a man."

"Still. This is messed up. How are we supposed to get a pint of Muggle blood? They're not exactly just going to give it willingly."

"We'll figure it out. First, let us figure out how to get to the cabin, retrieve the dirt and then we can sleep on this and figure it out in the morning. I do fear Muggle blood is the least of our worries."

Harry's eyes went comically wide but Draco began to lead him away before he had time to ask questions.

* * *

"Here I thought flying was insane. No. This is true insanity as shown by Muggles. How idiotic is it that they take their blood out and willingly give it away, for free? That's sick!" Draco whispered in a disgusted hush.

Another two days had passed and Harry finally had a plan to retrieve a pint of Muggle blood. They had the dirt from the sacred ground, which was an odd ordeal in itself, to see what they assumed was the birthplace of Voldemort.

"Giving blood saves lives, Malfoy. Muggles don't have magic to help when they're in car accidents or gravely injure themselves. Sometimes they need others blood to help them survive," Harry explained.

They were waiting in line at a Red Cross. Harry was going to give blood, as Draco, using the Invisibility Cloak beside him, would take one of the refrigerated bags that contained a pint. Harry had to admit he felt horrible about stealing from a blood donor bank, but it was a much better alternative and it was a more than necessary ingredient to their very specific potion.

"Each day I become more baffled as to how Muggles have survived. I do not know whether to be appalled and disturbed or oddly impressed," Draco admitted dryly.

Finally, Harry's turn came and he took his seat in a private room. It was such a small area, it was a wonder that Draco slipped in behind him without being noticed. The nurse began to prepare Harry's arm, asking him health questions. Harry spoke oddly loud which the nurse raised an eyebrow at, but said nothing of. Draco made quick work of the locked fridge shoved into the corner for short term storage. He waited to open it, however, as the nurse left to retrieve Harry's already filled out paper work from the receptionist. Draco swung the fridge open, retrieved a few bags of blood and shoved it underneath the Invisibility Cloak with him.

As Harry was prodded and his blood taken, Draco watched, feeling sick to his stomach. He thought living amongst Muggles, as he and Harry had been doing for the past few weeks, would help him to understand them more, but their customs and exchanges only confused him each and every time. But, although he wouldn't admit it, he was much happier to be amongst them than their own kind. The War had truly begun. Families that resisted the Death Eaters had gone into hiding, Voldemort had reached out and taken over the Ministry, Hogwarts and nearly every smaller Wizarding establishment. It was chaos. Absolute, terrifying chaos. People were dying every day back at home, Muggleborns and Purebloods alike. They had a mission to complete, a purpose. They had set out to end the foolish War built on one man's rage, and Draco couldn't be more pleased it was amongst the much simpler Muggles.

Harry was finished, a cotton ball pressed to the needle pricked hole. The nurse directed him towards a larger conference room down the hall where they had donuts and juice for those who donated. Harry nodded thankfully and went off to the room. There were a couple dozen people in there, sitting around plain tables, quite a large number of them looked paled and weak while others just sipped Styrofoam cups of juice and idly talked. Harry made his way up and grabbed a cup, feeling slightly weak from the loss of blood. There was a small, thin, copper haired female who was pouring the juice. When Harry came up, her cheeks turned red almost immediately.

"Are you feeling alright?" She asked softly.

Harry smiled at her gently. "I'm fine, thanks." At the sound of his accent, her eyes went wide and she fumbled with her jug of juice, pouring some onto the table and completely missing his cup. Harry saw a stack of napkins and hurried to clean up the mess, as she did the same.

"I'm so sorry about that," she flushed. Once the mess was cleaned, she poured him a proper cup. "You're English? What are you doing out here?"

Harry shrugged. "A little bit of this and that. I'm a, er, journalist," he fibbed again.

"Oh, that's interesting. But what's a foreign journalist got to write about here?" she asked curiously, leaning over the table with a small flutter of her eyelashes that may have gone unnoticed by the boy beside her, but definitely not by the invisible one behind him.

"Er, just a little piece-" Harry sharply cut his words off as a stabbing pain riddled through his toe. Draco had unceremoniously stomped it. He hissed, receiving an odd look from the girl. "I have to get going, thanks for the juice."

It wasn't until they returned to the small hotel room Harry had rented for them that Draco revealed himself, dropping the bags of blood to the floor and grabbing a firm grasp of Harry. He breathed down his nose at the brunette, a stern look on his face and a fiery look in his silver eyes. "Mine, Potter, you got that?"

"Uhm, what are you on-"

Draco cut him off with a harsh, bruising kiss. He pushed his body up against Harry's and easily dominated him, pushing him backwards onto their made bed. Harry looked up at him with surprise as Draco parted their faces momentarily. His slender fingers wrapped about Harry's right wrist and brought it over the brunette's head, his eyes trailed across his singed initials. "That girl, she liked you. But she didn't know you are mine. I want everybody to know they can't have you because you are  _mine_ ," he growled protectively.

Harry turned red and found himself smirking. "Never took you for the possessive type, Malfoy."

A dangerous look crossed Draco's eyes. "Say it, Harry. Say it," he hissed and pushed against him again, grinding their hips together causing a ripple of pleasure to be sent through Harry's body.

"I'm yours, Draco. All yours."

 


	21. A Date

**D** ays turned into weeks. Harry began to miss his friends more and more, and his thoughts became troubled as the nightmares sent to him by Voldemort grew stronger and more common by the day. Draco would hold him close at night, whisper away the pain and fear. The list of names of the deceased from back home began to grow. Thankfully, it had yet to reel off any that they personally knew.

Their journey had taken them to an odd location for the next ingredient in their step and retrieving it hadn't been easy, but it was done. Draco was taken aback at the state of the Eastern Muggle world. They had travelled to Cambodia, one of the few areas of the world that housed the Demigeuse. With the use of Harry's Invisibility Cloak, the creature easily came to them, though with caution. It was peaceful until it felt Draco's hand pluck a handful of its fine, silvery hairs from his mane. But it did not attack them, as Demigeuse were too peaceful of a creature for that. Instead, it ran off, and their encounter with it was short lived.

Draco sighed and leaned into Harry, his head on his shoulder as their hands found each other and entwined between their laps. Harry smiled softly. He was exhausted from their running, tired from hiding and constantly worrying over his friends. But the small gestures of closeness from his companion eased every part of him. Although half-lidded, Draco's eyes caught sight of scowling glares and disapproving whispers. He sent a cold, hard scowl at one deserving elderly woman before turning to Harry who seemed not to notice. "What's with all the snake eyes, Potter?"

They were currently seated at a seemingly Muggle travel agency not far from the Cambodian airport. They figured since they were so far from home in a much more isolated part of the world that it would be safe to travel via Portkey or Floo Network to their next destination. They both knew the faster, the better.

Harry followed Draco's glare to that of the old woman and sighed. "Muggles aren't as accepting of homosexuals. At least not here and many other places."

Draco scoffed, "Tch. And you think Purebloods are archaic. So long as an heir is reproduced, we are free to love who we wish."

"There are some ways our kind are advanced," Harry shrugged noncommittally.

"Only some ways? Please, Potter-"

"Next!"

Harry pulled Draco's arm and grabbed a hold of their bottomless bag from underneath his chair before leading to the teller. Before even speaking a word her eyes went comically wide. "Mister Harry Potter. Right this way, please, sir!"

The two exchanged glances as Draco rolled his eyes dramatically. "Even in the bloody middle of nowhere people still know you."

"Trust me when I say I wish they didn't," Harry mumbled, as they followed the middle-aged woman through a line of agents' desks and into a small, windowless office in the back of the agency. An older gentleman was seated at his desk, sifting through a small folder of papers.

"Sir, we have visitors who wish to travel in our special transport," the woman informed him.

The old man grunted and looked up with slight surprise at Harry and Draco, still clasping their hands together. They both looked the picture of perfection, even with lost sleep and the wear which running around the world in search of their ingredients had wrought on them. With cleansing charms and Draco's bottomless wardrobe and balms, he, and most especially Harry, had never looked better.

The gentleman hurried them in, pushing his employee out behind them and closing the door. "Mister Harry Potter! Here?! In Cambodia? Pleased to meet you, Mister Potter, my name is Aurealis Spectre!"

Harry shook his all too eager hand with his free one, dropping the bottomless bag to the floor. "Mr Spectre, pleased to meet you. This is-"

"Draco Malfoy! Well, I know a Malfoy anywhere!" Aurealis turned his hand to Draco who merely raised his eyebrow and did not take it despite Harry's dark glare. "Acts like a Malfoy, too! I knew your Father once, boy, you and he look just the same!" The man chortled, his blue eyes were filled with mirth and his smile very cheerful.

Draco tensed at the mention of his Father but still said nothing. "Er, right, well. We'd like to travel…where are we going again, Draco?" Harry asked nervously, he wasn't quite sure where they would find an Erumpent but it seemed his companion knew just as well.

As Aurealis offered them seats, he noticed their hands and tried not to look too hard at them comfortingly entwined. "I have heard of the Spectre family. Very old lineage, perhaps two hundred years after my own?" Draco asked conversationally as he sat, letting Harry's hand drop from his own as he was straight in his chair.

"Give or take a few years, m'boy. Before I get you where it is you need to be going, let an old man indulge in his curiosity. How is it that the only Malfoy heir and The-Boy-Who-Lived came to be here together?"

Harry bit his lip and was about to answer, but Draco spoke quicker. "Why we are where we are is of no particular concern to you, Aurealis. It is of private matters. And how we came to be with one another is hardly any of your business either," he said coolly.

"You're very right there, young Mister Malfoy, but it's indeed rather curious how one of…one of his is with-"

"If you are indeed implying what I think you are implying, you should learn to hold your tongue," Draco snapped. His voice assumed authority and demanded respect although he did not raise it. The tone alone was enough. "If we cannot continue this nonsense without feeding your curiosity, I hope this does it." Draco began to roll up his left sleeve. Even in the hottest climates, he refused to bear the damage done, though now healed, to his arm.

Harry saw what he was doing and grasped Draco's wrist gently, shaking his head. "Mister Spectre, sir, it would be very much appreciated if not only us being here was kept quiet, but also that the conversation be kept to a minimum."

Aurealis looked between the two boys for a moment, before nodding. "Alright then, lads. Where is it you're headed?"

"Africa. Specifically Northern, if you can. Any country will do, the more secluded the better," Draco explained.

Aurealis raised his eyebrows at the odd request, but merely nodded. "I think I can find just the place. Is there anything specific you're going there for? Perhaps if I knew, I could help pinpoint the destination."

Harry and Draco exchanged looks before Draco nodded slowly, giving permission to talk about it. "We're going to see an Erumpent. Or at least, we hope to. We've been travelling, you see, to find all sorts of rare creatures, just to chronicle," Harry lied.

This seemed to raise the old man's suspicions higher, but he said nothing of it. "Erumpents are magnificent and terrifying creatures. I'd prefer a Basilisk over one of them any day. Egypt will be your best hope to find an Erumpent this time of year. They are creatures of solidarity which makes them even more difficult to find. I do wish you boys the best of luck. And to be careful. Egypt, whether Muggle or Wizard, is not the safest place to be."

"Thank you, sir, I'm sure we'll be fine. How is it we can travel there? Is there a Floo Network?" Harry asked.

"Unfortunately, no. To any part in Northern Africa, you must travel by Portkey. It usually takes about a day to set up, but if you come tomorrow around noon, I will be able to have you there no problem! There is of course quite a handsome fee for such an estranged place, but I'm certain a Malfoy and a Potter can collectively pay for it without a problem," Aurealis grinned.

Draco stood suddenly. "Payment will not be an issue, but you won't receive it until tomorrow when we receive the Portkey." He turned on his heel to leave, Harry quickly following after him.

"Thank you, Mister Spectre, we'll be back tomorrow at noon!" Harry called as he caught up to Draco. Once they were out of the agency, he stopped him in the humid street. "What was that all about? You were so hasty!"

"The shorter periods of time we spend around our kind, Harry, the safer we will be," Draco shrugged. "You can never be truly sure where others' allegiances lie. Although, out in these reaches of the world, I doubt many are touched by Voldemort whatsoever."

Harry nodded understandingly, he had a good point. They were safer amongst Muggles for now. "So, a whole twenty-four hours with nothing to do. Anything you got in mind?"

Draco smirked devilishly at Harry. "I do remember quite a while ago, something about restraints and..." he leaned suggestively down at the brunette who blushed and shook his head.

"Come on. We're in the city tonight, not camping and eating that wretched stuff Kreacher considers food. Let's go out for dinner, wherever we can find to eat something half decent. They might even have a theatre in town," Harry suggested. He wondered what Draco would be like on a proper date, as they had never had the opportunity to have one until now.

"The theatre?" Draco asked curiously.

"Yes, like the cinema. Where Muggles watch movies."

"Movies?"

Harry blinked a few times. He shouldn't be surprised, this much he knew. He had never heard of any Wizards watching movies. "Er, it's like a play of sorts, but on a screen instead of live."

"Oh. I've always loved plays. Mother took me to them quite often as a child," Draco said fondly. "I would like to see this cinema thing, then, if we could."

"I doubt it's much like the plays you're used to. C'mon then, let's see what we can find," Harry dragged Draco off down the streets. They had no hotel room for the night, as they had been camping not far in the wilderness as to find the Demigeuse. Once they found a room for the night, they settled in at a small, dark restaurant that was nearly empty. Neither of the boys seemed to like Cambodia much. It was too much different to what either of them were used to. A little bit terrifying, especially at night.

As they ate curry and fish amok for dinner at the family owned restaurant, Harry brought up something he hadn't for weeks in hopes that Draco was comfortable enough to talk about it. "Back in Malfoy Manor, what Blaise said, what was he talking about?"

Draco sighed into his fish amok, putting his fork down on his plate. "Do you really want to know?"

"Yes, I do."

"Fine. But then you're telling me all about Sixth Year," Draco bargained, and Harry nodded obligingly. "It started just before our first Welcoming Feast. No," he shook his head. His strands of platinum hair had become long enough to cover the length of his face when he did. Harry reached across the table, reflexively pushing them behind Draco's ear. "It started that day in Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Do you remember that?"

"Er, sort of. I was a little bit overwhelmed at the time. First time being around anything magical, y'know? I remember you were being sort of a snob is all," Harry shrugged, grinning at the icy glare Draco sent him.

"Yes, well, I was a very talkative boy. I was excited to be leaving the Manor. Spending all your days there can get rather dry. I was excited to make friends. I already knew Crabbe, Goyle and Blaise. Blaise and I had always been rather close after enduring all those Pureblood galas together. Still, I was elated to meet more people. Different people from all over England. And to have the freedom to converse with them away from Mother and Father was almost just as overwhelming as your experience. I tried to make friends with you, is all. Then came the moment before the Welcoming Feast. I just wanted to be you friend, make a new acquaintance. Not just because you were famous, but…" Draco trailed off, Harry was surprised to see a tinge of pink on his porcelain skin. "…I also thought you were cute."

Harry blinked in surprise, but said nothing, pretending to be momentarily interested in his meal instead. "I never questioned my sexuality. And if I did, Pansy helped to sort out any lingering insecurities I had regarding it. I pegged my attraction to you as being a child, as I was, and knowing of your fame. But then Second Year came around and I couldn't stop myself from looking at you. Sitting across from you. I wanted you to see me, Harry, even if that meant pestering you 'til you hated me. I never questioned my loyalties, my duties. I was young, stupid, I had no idea what Father had truly been involved in at that age and I didn't realized until Third Year, when it was too late, that my attention to you was causing me to fall for you in ways I couldn't imagine." Draco took a deep breath, sighing.

"Third year came. I found myself terrified when I read the papers. Sirius Black had returned. I had heard the stories and the rumours that he was attempting to finish what he had started. That he came back to murder you. I had nightmares constantly. It is how Blaise and Pansy came to discover my already too deeply rooted obsession over you. Neither of us could explain it, but when it was known to them, they could see how undeniable and obvious it was. They argued I barely knew you, but the odd thing was that I did. I knew your favourite colour, when your Quidditch practice was, who your favourite team was, what your favourite and least appealing subjects were, which side you preferred to part your hair. I didn't even realize I knew all of that until they asked. Trust me when I say it surprised us all."

There were a few silent moments, Draco took a few sips of his water and refused to meet Harry's surprised, dumb-founded expression. "Fourth Year I was determined to put an end to what I called your nonsense. I made sure to force myself not to sit directly across from you in the Great Hall, only to find the next morning you had moved seats to accommodate my move, whether knowingly or not. With the tournament fiasco, I couldn't control myself, pushing your buttons was made too easy and it was the only time I could get you to look at me. That's all I wanted, for you to see. For me to make you feel something, even if it was anger. Fifth Year was better. I was able to suppress it. I understood what I felt as attraction and knew the rules each of us would have to play in the upcoming War, I knew I could never act upon anything. So I resumed my role as Potter's most hated, never hoping for more."

Finally, Draco raised his head, meeting Harry's shocked expression with a faint smile. "So that is what Blaise was referring to back at the Manor."

Harry exhaled exasperatedly. "That was…wow…" he huffed. "I feel horrible now, you know that, right? I mean, even though you were a jerk about it, I should've just shook your hand First Year."

Draco shook his head. "No. I'm glad you didn't. It would have been too complicated to even be friends back then, Harry. He would have tried to use any positive connection I had to you to get to you. Things could have gone horribly wrong."

The brunette reached across the table and grasped Draco's left arm gently, pulling up the sleeve ever so slightly to reveal the thoroughly scarred skin. Draco quickly covered it, pushing Harry's hand away. He seemed to be ashamed of the marks. "Didn't things go horribly wrong anyway?"

"They would have been worse and you know it. Besides, that is the past and this is now. It was worth the seven year wait," Draco smiled sweetly. Harry thought he was going to melt at the words and the way the corners of his mouth turned up just for him. "Your turn. Tell me all about Sixth Year."

Harry groaned. "I don't think you're going to like a lot of it, but here it goes…"

It wasn't much longer before Harry felt a pull in his chest during his story. When he cast that unfathomable curse on Draco. When he watched him on the bathroom floor, blood staining the water and rushing out of him at such an alarming rate. "I wanted to do something to reverse it. I tried, but I couldn't. I felt so horrible. I couldn't believe I had done it. It made me realize Death Eater or not, I didn't want you to die."

Draco's face took on a tight, unreadable expression again. It definitely wasn't one of his fondest memories. "I know you would not actually mean to cause that much harm. That will teach you not to cast spells you do not know the repercussions of."

"Oh, trust me, I will never be doing that again. Except maybe on Bellatrix Lestrage."

"Fair enough. Dearest Aunt deserves it," Draco hissed, the mention of that woman's name causing a shiver of hatred to run through him.

Harry saw Draco's expression darken and he quickly grabbed both of his hands in his own. "Come on, enough talk. I'll go pay and ask if there's any sort of cinema around here." When Harry returned to the table, he was smiling brightly, hoping to shake Draco's sudden dire mood. He reached down and pulled the blond up from his chair and kissed him chastely on the cheek. "The theatre is a few blocks from here. They don't have any new movies or anything, but apparently they're playing the Wizard of Oz and it's a fantastic classic."

Draco's eyes went wide, his face lit up like a child on Christmas morning. "The Wizard of Oz?! I love that book! It's so fantastic!"

Harry blinked a few times. "You've read The Wizard of Oz?"

"Why is that so surprising, Potter? You know how much I like to read," Draco huffed defensively.

"It's just that it's a Muggle book."

Draco chuckled. "No it most certainly is not. The Wizard of Oz, Harry,  _Wizard_ ," he emphasized.

Harry laughed and rolled his eyes, leading Draco out of the restaurant and down the street.


	22. The Great Sand Sea

Oh no. Harry decided he definitely did not like Africa, especially Egypt, one little bit. Draco seemed less pleased than himself. The difference of cultures was interesting at first but after a month of being away from their home, their country and friends, it was beginning to get overwhelming. They were both equally surprised to learn that they hated the heat. The arid desert was not the place for either of them.

On a daily basis their eyes would sting with sand, although after a few days Harry discovered a simple Protego could keep them protected from it for a short while. Harry’s skin had turned a very dark olive colour from the rays and Draco’s usually pale tone had become pink and red in spots. Even with the use of his balms which he had brought with him, Draco couldn’t control what the humidity did to his fine hair. Harry would have a good laugh at him on particularly warm days, all to his annoyance.

They had very little luck thus far locating anywhere an Erumpent could be. They asked locals of any myths of creatures, most were of scorpions or eagles and birds. They were renting a small room in an inn and would travel mostly by foot all day and night on the outskirts Siwa Oasis, the village they were staying in. It was one of the most isolated settlements of Egypt, very few people could speak English with them but thankfully Draco was very quick to learn new languages.

Even in the time of War, in the heartbreaking disdain of hearing the names of those lost at Death Eater’s hands grow larger each day, Harry couldn’t help but feel a small light of happiness sparking brighter every moment he spent by Draco’s side. He would trace the blonde’s initials in his wrist and smile, nothing had ever felt truer than his relationship with Draco and it was at the point he couldn’t explain it any more. He had fallen for him so hard. Despite his misgivings, his pompous attitude and often cruel demeanour Harry now found even in his foulest of moods he was so utterly attracted to him inside and out. It only made him want to end this War with Voldemort sooner, so he could explore a new life with him.

“Harry?” Draco called from the bathroom, the shower finally turning off.

“Mhm?” Harry responded back, his eyes never leaving the singed initials as he sat at the small wooden table in their room, looking between his wrist and a newspaper he couldn’t hope to read.

Draco propped the door open, poking his wet head out momentarily. Harry smiled stupidly up at him, causing him to receive a guarded look in return. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing. Just thinking,” Harry shrugged, his smile growing brighter as he imagined just how nude Draco was behind that door.

“Be careful, Potter, that’s a dangerous thing for you to be doing,” Draco teased and easily dodged the newspaper Harry threw across the room at him. “I just wanted to say you better be ready to head out in a minute.”

“A minute?” Harry scoffed, “More like an hour with you.”

“No need to make excuses. Just because I kept you up all night does not mean I myself am tired, too,” Draco smirked devilishly. Harry could walk over there and devour him that moment but he resisted the growing urge.

“I’m ready, you tit, whenever you are. But do we really have to just scout again _all day_? I feel like we’re getting bloody nowhere!” Harry sighed. It was true, they had gotten basically nowhere with their efforts since they arrived in Egypt.

Draco disappeared back into the bathroom, leaving the door open as he began to dress himself. “Do you have any better suggestions?”

Harry was silent for a moment before sitting up straight in his seat. “Yes, actually, I do. Are you very good at Locator Spells?”

Draco emerged from the bathroom, toweling his hair and wearing just his thin, Muggle bought shorts. Condensation and water dripped onto his bare chest and Harry had to hold himself to his seat. “Locator Spells? You know we can’t locate an Erumpent using one, right? Otherwise this would have been over ages ago.”

“I know but here me out. What is here that can lead us to an Erumpent that we _can_ locate?” Harry urged. Why he had yet to think of it before was beyond him.

“I am not quite following, Harry.”

“Wizards. We can locate Wizards. Any magicfolk, really.”

“And you think a Locater’s Spell will work on people we’ve never met, don’t know are truly here nor anything about them?” Draco asked incredulously. “That is not how it works, Harry, that spell is very specific.”

Harry frowned. He knew he had gotten somewhere he just wasn’t too sure where. “Well then, what about locating them the Muggle way?”

Draco rolled his eyes, “Everything about this trip just has to be the Muggle way, doesn’t it?”

“Hear me out. Look where we are. Nobody has a clue who we are. We are amongst very superstitious people, ones who believe in myths and magic even as adults. They’re not as oblivious as the Muggle’s back home. What if we simply _asked_ them if there were any folks who were gifted and lived with other gifted people?” Harry suggested.

Draco thought for a moment before turning to his trunk, rifling through it for a shirt. “I guess there is no harm in trying that. Besides, of course, ending up looking like lunatics.”

“We are Wizard’s, you know. We could always Obliviate them.”

“Sorry, the way you have me living has made me momentarily insane and forget I too can actually perform magic.”

Harry chuckled and stood, quickly crossing the room and stopping Draco rom putting his found shirt over his head. He was spooned up against his behind, his hands ran up his torso and then back down again, resting on his waistline. “Mm…before we go, I think I owe you for last night…”

“Oh? And how exactly are you going to repay me?”

Harry grinned. He brought Draco’s hands together behind his back and leaned forward, licking the shell of his ear. Draco shivered beneath the touch and had to bite his lip from moaning. “Like this,” Harry whispered seductively, “ _Tatemia_.” Ropes appeared out of nowhere and wound themselves about Draco’s wrists. Harry came to face him. “Think you can handle it, Draco?” He asked, pressing his body up against Draco’s and their lips nearly together.

Draco smirked, eyebrow raised. “I can handle it more than you did last night, Potter.”

Harry’s excited grew as he led Draco to their bed. “Oh, we’ll see about that…”

* * *

 

“Yes. What a brilliant bloody idea,” Draco grumbled.

Over the course of a few weeks he had gotten used to being dirty. Filled with sand, overheated, and perspiring more than he had his entire life. But this was the worst of it. They had travelled so far off any beaten path, the sand was damp and clung to them everywhere. He despised the feeling of it in between his toes.

“Hey, it was. This is the closest we’ve been to figuring out where the Erumpent is since we’ve gotten here,” Harry returned defensively. There was a village amongst ruins, a small settling of less than fifty people squatted together in huts not much further ahead which is where their destination was.

“Look at me Potter!” Draco whined, gesturing at the dirt caked all over his feet and the bottom of his legs. “I am as dirty as a House Elf!”

Harry rolled his eyes and tuned around. “ _Scourgify_ ,” he had his palms facing outward toward Draco and instantaneously he became relatively clean. “Did you happen to forget you’re a Wizard?”

Draco merely scowled as Harry laughed at him and continued on their way. Once they had finally made it to the settlement Harry could feel it just on the parameter of the neat, perfectly circled rows of huts. There seemed to be no shops. There were fire pits, some fenced yards with small livestock and most of the inhabitants were older with a few children. “Can you feel that?” Harry whispered.

“The ward? Very vaguely. It is a weak one,” Draco observed. Harry nodded, he was all too interested in the small village ahead. He was curious as to how Wizard’s lived in different countries. They couldn’t all live like this, could they? Harry decided this sort of settlement was rare for they were in a very remote part of the country.

Harry felt Draco’s hand wrap around his own and pull him through the ward. Immediately heads turned towards them. Most of the inhabitants wore light tunics, some had adorned head pieces. They were greeted first by a young woman, not much older than they themselves. She spoke in broken English, noting their obvious displacement. “You need something?”

“Er, yes, this is kind of…Draco, how do I ask this?” Harry stuttered. By now several others were walking over to greet them.

Draco rolled his eyes. “The place was warded, Harry, they’re obviously who we’re looking for. Here, just take out your-“

“Harry Potter?” An old voice whispered.

“Never mind, I keep forgetting you’re the Wonder Boy, recognized even in the remotest of places,” Draco groaned.

Harry blushed and looked for the source of the voice as whispers in Arabic rose around them and the crowd grew. A man pushing most of his weight on a walking stick came forward, he was bent over in his back and about a foot shorter than Harry. He peered up at the face through narrowed, wrinkled eyelids. His skin was heavily tanned, his hair thin and greying. “The Boy Who Lived?”

“Hello, sir. Your name?” Harry asked, he had found it best to keep his sentences short when conversing to those whose first language wasn’t English.

“He is called Aali. My name is Fahim. It is a true honor to meet you, Harry Potter. What brings you and your friend so far from home?” A younger man stepped forward to speak, obviously the most fluent in English, even his Arabic accent wasn’t as strong and his skin not as tan. He obviously didn’t originate from there but was well adapted.

Harry looked around uncomfortably, was he just supposed to ask? It seemed kind of an awkward question. Thankfully he didn’t have to think on it long before Draco stepped forward. “We are searching for an Erumpent.”

The crowd whispers grew again before becoming silenced by Aali who spoke in ragged breaths to Fahim, though his eyes never parted from Harry and Draco. When he was finished speaking, Fahim began. “There is rumour of a few. Most lie to the West in the Great Sand Sea. There are few and far between and one should not seek them without heeding great warning. They are mighty. They do not fall easily and their threat is true.”

Aali began to speak again. “Aali says there is an enchantment he can do for you to lead you to them. He says that if Harry Potter is in need of an Erumpent and has come so far for one, it must be of vital importance. He says there are few ancient remedies that can be made with the use of its materials.”

“There is one in particular that we need the horn for. It is of greatest importance,” Draco confirmed.

At this information Aali spoke more. “The price for the enchantment, as it is an exhausting one to one such as Aali, is the rest of the Erumpent if you seek just its horn.”

“Of course,” Harry said quickly. “Thank you, the help is much appreciated.”

“Would you like some lunch and rest before you continue your journey?” Fahim offered kindly.

Harry was about to respond but Draco knew it would be an acceptance. “No, thank you,” he said quickly, “We really must get on our way.”

Aali spoke again a few times and then turned from them. “He wishes you to follow just outside the boundaries of our ward. There he can place the enchantment. Please, this way,” Fahim led them and the crowd of people parted for them. None followed though their eyes never left the trailing, pale Wizards.

On the outsides of the boundaries, Aali asked for their wands. Reluctantly, they gave the old man them. He began to whisper, his hand wound tightly around his walking stick. “Can he do wandless magic?” Harry asked Fahim as the old man concentrated, chanting something beneath his breath with his eyes closed.

“No, there is no one of that kind of magic here. Many of us do not own wands. His stick is his anchor,” Fahim explained, gesturing towards the walker.

Draco made a small, interested harrumph but said nothing. “We have heard many stories of Harry Potter’s greatness. Is it true?”

“Er. I’m not great,” Harry shook his head.

“They say you stopped the darkest Lord our world has ever known as a baby-“

“My Mother’s love did,” Harry interjected quickly and then pointed to his forehead. “This is what _she_ did, not me.”

Fahim furrowed his brows. “And when you were eleven you did not defeat him again?”

“He did,” Draco quickly stated, knowing Harry was going to find another excuse to deny himself what he had done. “And twelve. And fourteen, he evaded him. Fifteen he overpowered him. And now at seventeen he is going to end him.”

Harry was blushing but said nothing. “We are glad to help and have met the great Harry Potter. I hope that when you return from your journey you will choose to stay awhile.”

“ _If_ we return from it,” Harry mumbled.

“You shall,” it was Aali that spoke his own words with his cracked voice. He began to speak in Arabic again.

“Your wands will point you where you need to be. He also wishes for you to take this,” Fahim gestured at Aali’s now out-stretched hand that held not only their wands but a long leaf that look something like an oversized nettle leaf. “He says that you,” he said, directing it at Draco, “Will know what to do with it when the time comes.”

“Thank you,” Harry nodded gratefully at the both of them.

“Goodbye, Harry Potter, for now.”

They turned to leave but the old man, faster than he looked, snatched Draco’s wrist and pulled him close. “A dragon is harder to wake than he is to put to sleep,” he said in almost flawless English, his accent barely audible.

Draco’s eyes went wide before he nodded slightly and continued on with Harry. They were about five minutes away from the village, out of the mass of ruins, in the direct heat reflecting off the desert sands, when they finally spoke. “What did Aali mean by that?” Harry asked.

“It’s a line from an old children’s story,” Draco explained, still perplexed as he looked down at the leaf in his hand. He brought it to his nose and sniffed, making an odd expression of distaste afterwards. “There was a story of a most dangerous dragon and a boy who stumbled upon him in his sleep. The boy was foolish enough to _want_ to wake the dragon. So he tried, with all his might, to wake him but he couldn’t. Many days went by and the dragon still would not wake no matter the boys efforts. Finally, on his own time, the dragon woke and was angered when he did for he did not want the boys company. So the boy tried to put him to sleep and he did, easily, by placing flowers of lavender around him.”

“I don’t get it.”

Draco frowned and looked at the leaf contemplating again. “Perhaps Aali knows how to lay an Erumpent to rest,” he gestured at the gift.

Harry sighed, “I guess we will see about that.” He pointed his wand forward and whispered, “Point Me.” The wand jerked automatically to the Northwest. Thankfully, Harry had become proficient at shadowing charms since their arrival in Egypt. Their walk, led by their enchanted wands, was made much easier by a constant cloud of a shadow cast over them. They rarely spoke, savouring their energy and attempting to keep the moisture in their mouths and the sand out of it. Even the slightest breeze had them covered.

It was two hours of nothing until they finally reached a large dune. Large enough it contained a desert forest nestled in the middle of it. The wand would no longer point them indicating they had reached their destination. There was a small bed of water. If there truly was an Erumpent nearby, it would not stray far from the water. They began there, Harry taking the lead as Draco trailed behind, scouting the unfamiliar territory before them with his wand drawn. He knew how stupid this was. How ridiculous. But many trained Aurors had done it before, for the retrieval of the rare ingredients, and he presumed Harry had enough dumb luck they could do it themselves.

Around the small bed of water were small boulders and mountains of rocks. Harry started walked across them, attempting to stick close to the water but circle about it, his eyes squinted against the high midday sun. The area seemed deserted of other animals, until Harry caught sight of a fox. He stopped and pointed in its direction. Draco nodded and looked at the fox, twenty metres in their distance. “Shh,” Draco warned. “If this is Erumpent territory, every animal that comes in will be its prey. We should wait. Watch.”

They didn’t have to wait long, as they had both lowered themselves to a crouched position and Harry had retrieved his cloak from their bottomless bag, throwing it over them. The fox knew something was coming and despite the size of that something it seemed to come out of nowhere. It charged just as fast as Harry remembered centaurs could run. Its feet thundered against the ground, shook the rocks and rippled the water. It was gigantic. Nearing the size of an elephant but with an even heavier build. Its horn was great, as thick as Harry’s leg and twisted in the middle. It looked like an older Erumpent, perhaps aged at least a hundred years. Its skin was grey and wrinkled, it hung loose around its muscled body. It reminded Harry very much of a rhinoceros but much larger and there was a look in its eyes as it caught the fox in its giant, sharp jaws with ease, that was to be reckoned with.

Harry turned to Draco with a horrified expression. Draco, however, seemed to be calculating. “What the bloody hell do we do to stop that thing?! It will kill us in an instant!”

“For its horn we have to kill it,” Draco stated matter of factly and then looked at the wand in Harry’s hand.

Harry’s expression fell. “No. I can’t cast that. Not the Killing Curse, Draco, I can’t.”

Draco sighed. “I understand but I am certainly not strong enough to do it myself, it would barely startle him.”

“Maybe if we could both stun him? It might slow him down a little bit. Still, how are we going to actually kill it? I mean, I didn’t really think before now that we’ll have to literally kill it. Draco, I’m not too sure I want to do this-“

Draco took Harry by the shoulders and shook him roughly beneath the Invisibility Cloak. “Too late, Potter, we have to do this,” he snapped firmly. “Stunning him at the same time will probably only slow him down which will have to be good enough.”

“Good enough for what, though?”

“I have a plan,” Draco said slowly, fingering the large leaf in his hand.

“Well then, what is it?”

“You are just going to have to trust me,” Draco firmly repeated himself before Harry could interject, “Trust me, Harry. On the count of three, we can stun him from underneath the cloak and then I want you to run over there,” Draco gestured at a large boulder just behind them. “I will stop him before he reaches you.”

“Are you mad?!” Harry hissed a little too loudly. The Erumpent stopped devouring its earlier prey and perked its head upwards, trying to decipher the region of the noise. Harry paled considerably.

“We don’t have any time to argue otherwise now. Just do it and trust me, Harry.” The Erumpent heard Draco’s words even more clearly as it was listening. Its back left hoof thudded with warning at the ground. It started off in a quick bound. “Harry. One, two, three, NOW!”

“ _Stupefy_!” They yelled in unison. The two beams intertwined and smashed into the Erumpent, startling it and slowing it down. It nearly fell onto its side but after a few dazed moments, it continued on though at a slow, threatening trot instead of a large gallop. Harry sucked in a deep, shuddering breath and dipped out from underneath the Invisibility Cloak and ran towards the boulder Draco had indicated at. He jumped on top of it, raising his arms flailing into the air. The beast eyed him. Looked directly at him. Harry felt himself go numb with fear. Was he really trusting Draco this blindly with his very life? The beast could easily impale him that was for sure.

The beast was now close to Draco and Harry thought quickly, his heart thudding in his chest. “ _Avis_!” he yelled, a charm he had merely read about but never cast before. A flock of blindingly white birds erupted from his wand, plummeting almost viciously at the started and confused Erumpent. Harry didn’t let his pride in quick thought consume him as he closed his eyes, raising his hands forward and concentrating. _“Defodio_.”

What happened next, neither were expecting it in the intensity that it did. The rocks underneath and surrounding the encompassing Erumpent suddenly became carved into. Some disintegrated entirely. Harry spell made quick work of the ground around it, leaving the small area around him and Draco untouched and much higher of a level. The Erumpent was dazed and still feeling the effects of the stunning curses as the flock of birds encircled it. It began to swipe angrily at the birds, thrusting its horn and impaling a few of them or stomping them beneath its large hooves. Draco revealed himself from underneath the Invisibility Cloak. The last of the birds was demolished but now the Erumpent had to figure out how to surface itself out of its hole. Draco levitated the odd overgrown leaf and the Erumpent watched it carefully come towards him. It landed on the ground at its feet. The creature warily bent its neck down and immediately upon its snout touching it, it fainted. Fast asleep in only a moment’s time.

Harry and Draco exchanged a few incredulous looks before moving. “We have to ask Aali what the name of that leaf is! Imagine how easy getting Erumpent ingredients will be if-“

“No,” Harry cut Draco off quickly. “It probably isn’t widely known for a reason. Erumpent’s are endangered. They would be wiped off the Earth in a moment if it was common knowledge.”

Draco nodded, he was right of course, but still, it was truly amazing how quickly it had taken it down. “That was amazing, Harry, truly. The birds, it was a brilliant idea.”

Harry smiled softly, “Thanks. Not thinking usually gets me out of these situations.”

“See. I knew your dumb luck would get us what we needed,” Draco mumbled more to himself than anybody else.

“Now what?” Harry asked a little sadly. He knew what was next but he didn’t want to face it and he most definitely didn’t want to do it.

“I can’t, Harry, not something this large. I am good at cutting charms, but not on something this size and thickness,” Draco said regretfully. He knew how much it would pain Harry to kill something so innocent even though it was so dangerous.

“I just wish there was another way.”

“I know,” Draco placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Harry sighed and made quick work of it. He cast, with ease, a lacerating charm that disembodied the Erumpent’s head. Draco removed the horn soon after, carefully placing it a bag within their bottomless bag.

As they started back towards the village from where they came, the shadow cast over them once again and their hands lazily entwined, Harry began to think of just what exactly could be the final ingredient to their concoction. “What is it, Draco? What’s the last thing?”

Draco tensed immediately, his cool mask sliding into place. “What it is does not matter now, Harry. We can retrieve it when we return home.”

“No, tell me, please,” Harry said softly, knowing he would drive himself mad thinking of how horrible it could be.

Draco looked at Harry with unreadable, cold grey eyes. “The flowing blood of a relative of the brewer.”

Harry gaped. He hadn’t words to react. A few stunned moments went by as they walked alongside each other. “The Dursley’s?” Harry said softly and breathed a little easier when Draco shook his head.

“No. They are too distant of a relative. Not that it would matter anyway. It calls for the blood of an immediate family member of the _brewer_. Although you are assisting me in the collection of the ingredients, Harry, you are most certainly not trusted with concocting the antidote,” Draco explained sharply.

Harry frowned. “But, your parents, they’re-“

“I know.” Draco snapped. “There is a way for them to be woken, briefly. Long enough for us to get what we need.” He refused to turn and look at Harry’s horrified and pained expression.

The rest of the walk back to the village was in complete silence as Harry’s stomach churned in knots at the thought of just exactly what Draco would have to go through to justify the means to their end.


	23. Never Alone

Harry never pegged himself for being nostalgic but if he denied he before he couldn't now. They had made it, finally, after two long months of being away they were nearing their end of their journey. There were a few bumps, a few moments of fear of being caught or found – especially on the evenings when Voldemort would visit Harry in his nightmares – but they made it home alive. Or at least they would. Soon.

Even the air in Britain, cool against their skin as it was nearing the end of October, felt familiar. But their movements had to be more calculated. They were restricted to where they could be seen without the use of a Polyjuice Potion. They stuck mainly to Muggle parts of the country until they had the opportunity to return to Malfoy Manor. Draco had called upon Tally first, to ensure the situation had yet to change. Going there was the only way he knew how to safely reach Severus and he was necessary for the last ingredient.

"Are you certain we cannot just use one of your pathetic Muggle relatives?" Draco sneered.

Harry sighed. "No, Draco, we can't  _murder_  somebody."

Draco shrugged. "If anybody deserved it, it would be your Uncle," he muttered.

They arrived through the wards just the same as they had done before. As soon as they entered, however, they were immediately noticed and not by somebody they could trust. Other than Pansy, Blaise and Nott they must have assigned new people to the Manor. Tally had told Draco that much, though there were less there than before. Perhaps Bellatrix could tell she was not going to catch Draco in his own home, not again.

An unnameable witch and wizard stood before them, just a few corridors away from where they came out from the empty dungeons. They didn't asked questions and one even revealed his Dark Mark, putting his wand to it. Harry reacted quick enough to stop him from summoning anybody. His hand raised in the air and turned into a fist. The wand not only flew out of the others grasp but splintered as it did. Harry truly found, taking Draco's advice, the less he thought and more he  _felt_  the easier wandless magic became.

The couple, whom looked about in their mid-twenties, stood in slight shock and awe for a moment before reacting. Harry had two wands grasped in his hand now even though his own was almost useless. "Harry Potter. What a fool to come here and with a pathetic  _traitor_  like Malfoy scum over here!" The girl spat. " _Crucio!_ "

Harry didn't react as fast as he did the first time. The spell rippled through his body, he felt it in every muscle and nerve. He bit his lower lip, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of his strangled scream. Draco fired a quick shot at the girl, she was forced to lift the Unforgiveable to protect herself from his stun. "The only traitor here is those who still choose to follow an insane hypocrite!" Draco snarled.

"Tch," the girl scoffed taking a step forward, the boy slightly behind her glaring at Harry as he was useless without his wand. "You only say that because you were too weak to follow him."

"Too weak? Hah!" Harry laughed coolly through gritted teeth. "Strength is shown when, despite the consequences, you can think for yourself and choose to do what is right over what is easy."

"Shut up, Potter, you filthy little half-blood!  _Stupe-_ "

Harry was ready this time. He closed his eyes and threw his hands up. He found without incanting anything or thinking of a specific charm and feeling what he wanted to happen instead was a lot more effective. There were two loud thuds and he slowly opened his eyes. Silence greeted him and Draco's gaping stare. The Death Eaters lay on the floor, motionless.

"Harry," Draco whispered, moving towards him and slipping his hand into Harry's. "You amaze me more every time you do something like that. Truly. You are so much more than anybody knows you are."

Harry blushed at the honesty behind Draco's voice, the way his eyes twinkled silver in the light of the corridor down at him. He felt like reaching forward and pulling Draco in to smother him but now was not the time. "I wouldn't know what I could do myself if it weren't for you being confident in me."

"Well, somebody had to help you instead of just assume you knew what you were doing because let's face it, Potter, you have no bloody idea."

"Something we can agree on for once," Harry grinned. "What should we do with them?"

"Depends on what you did to them."

Harry shrugged. "I was concentrating on stunning them. Perhaps it's a version of that?" He suggested, unsure himself what he had done.

"We should not be here too long and where we will be going is still separately warded. Come on, leave them." Draco instructed.

The walk up to Draco's bedroom was not interrupted. When he knocked there was nobody in there which surprised him. He continued on to his Father's study instead which, when inside, he found Blaise and Pansy. At first they looked at him with surprise before Pansy ran towards him, throwing her arms about his neck. Draco hugged her back before she released him and turned to Harry, stopping only briefly before embracing him as well. Harry went stiff in her arms, unsure of how to react.

"I'm not going to bloody bite you, Potter," Pansy teased.

Harry chuckled and hugged her back. "You two are certainly driving the Dark Lord mad, I will have you know," Blaise drawled from his seat on one of the sofas where he slowly rose, tossing a book he had been reading to the side as he approached the couple.

Draco raised his eyebrow, crossing his arms. "Oh? Do explain, Zabini."

"Death Eaters have been scouring the Isles and every plausible place for a sight of the great Harry Potter. You, well, are more of a nuisance to Bellatrix than anybody else," Blaise shrugged. "Where did you two go for so long?"

"We had things that needed to be done," Draco said shortly. "Is the room still warded by Sev?"

"It will go off when any of the Malfoy lineage enter, yes," Blaise answered. "Tell me. What was so important that had to be done so urgently in such a time as this? You know, each day Pans and I stay here the closer we come to being found out about our shaken allegiances. We're expecting you," he pointed at Harry, "To put an end to this."

"He can't. Not yet," Draco answered for Harry.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "C'mon Blaise, lighten up, your friend is finally home again and that's all you can say? Potter, why don't you come over here and sit with me? Tell me all about Draco dearest?" She smirked at Draco's quick sneer but was already pulling Harry toward the couch.

Blaise's grin faltered as he watched the two walk away, leaving him and his best friend standing alone. "How have you and the Wonder Boy been? Better than expected?"

Draco felt his lips twitch, he felt pathetic that he couldn't control the urge to smile when he thought about how close he and Harry were. "Yes. Much. Tell me, any movements you can speak of? How has it been here? Where is Nott?"

At the last question Blaise's eyes fell to the floor, he sighed heavily and ran a weak hand through his dark hair. Draco's eyes went wide and he quickly slid a mask into place. ' _No_ ,' he thought to himself, his stomach clenching, ' _Nott didn't deserve whatever happened_.'

"He was called on a mission about a week after you left. There was a raid of Diagon Alley. He didn't want to go but he was chosen to and there was nothing any of us could do," Blaise explained sadly.

"Who? How?" Draco demanded.

Blaise shrugged. "We've no idea who but, Draco…the poor bastard didn't even go with dignity. He was so scared, I know he was, and it wasn't even fast. He was stabbed and they found him, bled out, after the raid was finished. He was killed like a  _Muggle_  and he was all alone when it happened."

Draco felt his insides clench, he grit his teeth as white anger flashed through him tangled with a pang of sorrow for his school friend. "I don't want to go like that. I don't want to fight in this bloody stupid War. I want to finish school. I want to be a teacher, not a bloody Muggle-killer who dies all alone."

Draco placed his hands on Blaise's shoulders, shaking him gently and looking deep into him. "You won't, okay? We will end this before it ever comes to that. I promise," Draco said sternly.

The door to the study flew open, much to Harry's liking as he was seven shades of red from the questions Pansy badgered him with in such a short period of time. "Draco," Severus said softly in greeting, his face twisting into a gentle smile. Draco hugged his godfather, his frame weak and hair long and unkempt.

"Sev. We need your help. I know you cannot be gone long so we don't have much time."

"We?" Snape asked, turning away from Draco and toward Harry who was slowly approaching them. Severus' face fell slightly and his mouth pulled into a thin, long line. "Ah. Still with the insufferable brat, I see."

Harry's glared at him but didn't speak. He knew it was a playful jab, in a sense, it wasn't meant to be as hateful as it sounded. "The only time I will be leaving Harry is by force." Harry was surprised at the strength and confidence in Draco's words. At the defiance and pride in his face as he turned it upwards. He didn't truly realize his conviction before then, speaking so strongly and faithfully about their relationship before those closest to him.

Blaise chuckled lowly and walked over behind Harry, slapping him enthusiastically on the back. "Oh we know that much, Malfoy. You wouldn't spend seven years obsessing over him just to let him go."

Snape rolled his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest. "As much as I would love to continue our little reunion, you are correct, Draco, I have not much time. What can I assist you with?"

"The last ingredient of," Draco paused thoughtfully, glancing over his shoulder, "You know exactly what we need, Severus."

Snape inclined his head slightly. "I do. I take it your past few months have been rather productive?"

"Too productive," Harry butted in.

"Everything is almost prepared. There is not much more we can do after this," Draco added.

"But the time is not ready yet. Hogwarts is too well protected at the moment. It may not be for a few months until it is penetrable. I know the last of which you need lies there and you  _will not_ enter until I say it is time," Snape ordered.

Harry narrowed his eyes as his voice rose, "We can't just stand around and wait for you to tell us it's okay to put an end to this bullshit! People are dying, not that you  _care_  but I do!"

Snape moved swiftly over to Harry, he took a handful of his sweater into his fist and dragged him up to him. Their noses were nearly touching and Harry's eyes did not flinch as they may have in the past from the cold depths of Severus'. "You do not for  _one minute_  say that I do not care, Potter. So bloody ungrateful just like your Father."

Harry shoved Snape back hard, the older man almost stumbled but quickly regained himself straightening his robes as he did and withdrawing his wand. Harry waved his wand with ease, Snape's wand clattered to the floor. Snape looked with surprise at first before his face hardened. "The only reason you speak so ill of my Father is because you're jealous of what he had and you didn't," Harry snarled.

If Snape was surprised to see that Harry had learned of his infatuations with Lily, he didn't show it. "James was never deserving of Lily. But if all that's left of her is this insolent boy than I will do whatever it takes to protect what is hers," Snape snapped icily.

Harry went silent with shock, all of the blood drained out of his face. "Sev," Draco said softly. "We do not have the time for this."

"You are right, Draco. Zabini, Pansy," Severus nodded towards them and they did as well in return. "Come then, let's to Godric's Hollow."

Harry's eyes went wide. "What's there?" But he knew what was there. His parents. The home he lived with them in until they were murdered. The ruins of the house, the vacant lot. A place he didn't wish to go.

"Where he buried my parents," Draco replied shortly.

"Where mine are, as well," Harry sighed.

"And mine," Snape extended his arm. "Potter, you will be able to apparate there I assume? You can apparate based on feeling, can you not?

"Er, sort of-"

"He can. If there is one thing Harry is good at it's doing things by feeling too damn much," Draco drawled and took a hold of Severus' arm.

"I will Side-Along apparate with Draco. Think of your parents. Concentrate on any vague memory you have of them. Think of what home would have looked like. The pictures of it you have seen. Think of that and nothing else," Snape instructed.

Harry nodded mutely as Draco bid a silent farewell to his friends and disappeared with a crack. Harry sucked in a deep breath and began to think of what he was instructed to before he was interrupted by a soft hand on his arm. It was surprisingly Blaise's, he looked at him with soft, vulnerable eyes. "I know Draco would do anything for you, Potter. Do not doubt the lengths he will go to for you. Try not to hurt him, would you?"

Harry rose his right hand, pointing at the others initials still visible there. "If can't see I can't hurt him even if I wanted to. And hurting him is the last thing I want to do."

Blaise nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving his friends initials in Harry's wrist. "Good luck, you two." Harry inclined his head and then closed his eyes, apparating to what he could only imagine was home.

He landed a little uneasily, almost about to topple over. Draco caught him. It was the afternoon, they had appeared in a small thicket of trees before a nearly empty street standing across from a vacant lot. "Is this where it was?" Harry asked softly.

"Yes. Come on. The cemetery is over here. We will need to place unbreakable and undetectable privacy charms about the whole circumference of a crypt. Will you be able to do that, Potter?" Snape asked as he began to lead the way.

"He will," Draco quickly said, cutting off what he knew would be a denial from Harry. "Should we not at least Polyjuice ourselves, Sev? Especially Harry?"

"If we hurry, no."

It was a mere few minutes before they were at the cemetery. It was empty and circled with a line of tries. It was a relatively small cemetery and it didn't take Severus long to lead them to the freshly marked graves. Draco's face was tight, his eyes empty and his lips drawn into a thin line. Harry tried to reach for him but he only backed away slightly. "I knew the day would come soon. The preparations are ready in my parent's crypt. We can use my Father's bones for the enchantment. I will give you a moment, meet me there."

Draco needn't ask where the crypt was. There were only four in the entire cemetery and he had been there before with Severus many years ago. "You parents, they're over there," Draco didn't lift his head from burning into his Mother's tombstone as he pointed in another direction.

Harry nodded, following his finger. When he found his parents he knelt before them, his hand traced across their names. He stayed for maybe only a few minutes of maybe a half hour, he wasn't sure. Eventually Draco's hand fell on his shoulder, startling him slightly. "Come. Sev is ready."

They entered the crypt. It was small, one level, with one over-sized coffin and shelves for walls with a few cremation jars set upon them. "My grandparents," Snape gestured at the large coffin. "The rest are my extended family and my parents," he explained for Harry's benefit. There was a large circle drawn on the floor behind the coffin, odd symbols strewn about in a pattern around it and latin as well. Candles of different sorts were lit, perfectly placed, there was a cauldron already bubbling with some sort of concoction that smelt vile.

"What are we doing?" Harry asked warily.

Snape exchanged a curious glance with Draco who merely avoided his gaze. "I guess Draco did not inform you of what is necessary."

"He did. Sort of. But you can't bring people back from the dead. It's impossible," Harry said shaking his head.

"The Resurrection Stone?" Draco countered.

"Yeah but that's different."

"Is it?" Draco sighed. "This, like the potion we are creating, is ancient magic, Potter. This exists from a time when our kind were not civilized."

"What  _exactly_  are we doing, Draco?" Harry asked more carefully.

Snape stood up from the preparations he was continuing to make, huddled around the steaming cauldron. "Mother or your Father?"

"My Mother," Draco said without hesitation. Snape nodded and left the crypt.

"Draco," Harry began, he reached out, grasping Draco's wrist. Draco immediately melted into the touch.

"This spell doesn't bring people back from the dead but it temporarily revitalizes them. It can make a dead body lifelike. Almost like the Inferius."

Harry's eyes went wide, briefly recalling his encounter with them in Sixth Year. "Draco, those things are wretched! They're terrible! You can't – not to your Mother –"

"We have to. It's either that or one of those deserving Muggle's has to take her place," Draco snapped. But Harry knew what he wasn't saying. Or even showing for that matter. He knew him well enough that he truly didn't want this. That he was being strong for the both of them. Keeping his exterior cold and calm, collected although inside he was churning.

Harry closed the distance between them fully, wrapping him tightly in his arms. "I'm here, Draco," he whispered reassuringly. He couldn't imagine what it would be like, to have to watch his Mother come back to life in such a twisted way.

Draco shook his head slightly and began to tremble in his arms, he shakily embraced Harry back. "No. I'm alone in this."

Harry leaned back, looking up with tears shining in his eyes. His heart was wrenching for Draco. Though his parents were never the greatest of people in Harry's eyes they were still his parents and he still, only months before, had to watch them suffer and die by his own kin. Then their deaths and memories were mocked for the weeks following. Harry couldn't fathom what his boyfriend was feeling and hiding from him. "No. Never. I'll never let you be alone. I'll always be right here," Harry said, his voice faltering.

Draco sucked in a tight breath, he could feel himself and his carefully constructed mask breaking but he didn't let it. Instead, he held Harry a lightly tighter. Even as Snape rejoined them, they didn't let go of each other the entire time. For the next few hours, Draco borrowed every bit of Harry's strength.


	24. The Return

Harry knew he missed Grimmauld Place but not as much as he truly did. As they landed on its doorstep, he felt all the tension breathe out of his lungs. Even Draco looked relieved to return to the familiar, dank and dusty halls. They entered together, silently. It was late at night by the time they returned from the ceremony with Snape. Draco was drained, emotionally, as was Harry.

“Is there anything you need?” Harry asked gently as they made their way quietly inside as to not wake his slumbering friends.

“A hot shower and our beds would be lovely.” Draco kicked off his shoes and turned for the stairs but Harry caught him, whirling him about to face him. He sighed, “I will be fine, Harry.”

Harry frowned. He couldn’t imagine anybody being ‘fine’ after seeing their Mother twisted by an ancient ritual into something resembling an Inferius. Then after his Mother being raised having to kill her, to drain her of the cold blood barely running through her sunken, flaking skin. Narcissa Malfoy was an image firmly imprinted in both of their minds, one that would undoubtedly haunt them in their dreams for far too many nights to come.

“Okay. But we’re sleeping in a different room tonight. Lying in the middle of two beds is bloody uncomfortable,” Harry said.

Draco got his implication. They would be sleeping in the only room with a bed large enough for two people, the master bedroom. The one kept closed at the end of the long, narrow corridor. The one that probably still had piles of Sirius’ things in it, strewn about everywhere. Draco nodded and started quietly for the bathroom as Harry followed with their much fuller bottomless bag. He crept passed Hermione’s room where the door was shut, no light spilling out from underneath it. As he passed Ron’s, it was empty and it caused Harry’s mouth to twitch into a small smile. He went to the Master bedroom, taking a look around. He hadn’t been in there often enough to feel nostalgic about it but he could tell most of the clothing Kreacher had never picked up off of the floor or draping over the vanity chair was indefinitely Sirius’.

Harry dropped their own bag to the ground and began to slowly pick things up, looking them over and neatly folding them. By the time he gathered it all and placed them into drawers he could hear the shower running down the hall. He slipped out of his shirt, his muscles aching and the skin on his back was slightly burnt. He ran his hand along the large four poster bed, it had transparent drapes he rubbed absently between his fingers. It had been nearly two years now and he still missed Sirius immensely but now the thought of him made him smile instead of ache.

Lost within his thoughts, Harry hadn’t noticed an extra presence at the door. He turned around to see Hermione smiling blindingly at him. He grinned sloppily in return as she bound towards him, throwing her arms around his neck. Harry hugged her tightly back. “Oh, sorry,” Hermione blushed, realizing his lack of clothing and backing up slightly. “How are you? Where’s Draco? Is everything okay? Are you two okay? Did you do it-“

“Hermione,” Harry said slowly, his hands on her shoulders. “Slow down. More importantly, how are you?”

Hermione flushed and raised her arm, healed with traces of a bite scar. “Draco was right. I felt wretched for a while but the potions really helped. The first full moon was horrible but Ron was there during it all,” she blushed.

Harry smirked. “Speaking of Ron, I saw he’s not in his room.”

Hermione’s cheeks turned a hot red. “We have had a lot of time together. Alone and together.”

“I’m happy for you, ‘Mione, really-“

“Took the two of you long enough,” Draco drawled from the doorway. Hermione turned to greet him, his hair dripping wet still and a towel wrapped loosely about his waist. She looked down at her feet, her cheeks heating up even more. Draco merely raised his eyebrow at her and continued into the room. “I cannot believe I am saying this but I am glad to see you are in one piece, Granger.”

“You too, Draco. I take it you both were successful?” She asked, her eyes still never leaving the floor.

“Harry,” Draco said softly, almost with a slight whine in his tone. Harry rolled his eyes at him.

“Right, to bed your highness,” he gestured at the large bed and Draco nodded thankfully. “Do you mind if I stay up with her for a while? Will you be alright?”

“Yes, Potter. I am fine. Go on,” Draco assured him tightly. “Nice to see you again, Granger,” he nodded in her direction and Hermione inclined her head in return. Harry ushered her out of the room, casting a worrying glance back at Draco before going on to wake his best friend. Nobody seemed to get any sleep that evening as the three Gryffindors stayed up alongside one another talking of their past few months and Draco huddled in a stranger’s sheets trying to forget every detail of the evening.

* * *

 

Nervous was an understatement for what Draco was feeling at the moment. Though, being true to the Malfoy that he was, he showed nothing other than collective indifference. He was waiting in their room, trying hard not to pace. The more knocks on the front door he heard the more ill at ease he became.

The Order, or at least the head parties of it, were about to learn of his allegiance, his past, his parents and worst of all his relationship with Harry. It wasn’t that he was ashamed to be in a known partnership with him, it was that he wasn’t sure how everyone would react to their precious Golden Boy sorted with a Malfoy.

A knock on his bedroom door scared him witless but he was quick to regain composure as Harry popped his head into the room. “You decent?”

Draco put on a playful smirk. “If I wasn’t it has hardly stopped you before.”

“True,” Harry chuckled as he walked in, lightly shutting the door behind him. A few moments of silence went by before he took Draco into his arms. “You’re nervous?”

“You can tell?” Draco countered feeling betrayed by his own expressions.

“Well you must be because you haven’t tried to jump or insult me yet,” Harry laughed. “It’ll be fine. They’re harmless, really. I’ve explained whoever is hid away up here in my room is somebody extremely important to me. Somebody who, without them, we would never be able to stop Voldemort.”

Draco sighed, “What have you told them?”

“Not much other than that. Most of it is your story to tell, not mine.”

“Do I have to?” Draco whined.

Harry smiled, his hand ran down Draco’s side until it reached the others palm. He grasped tightly, looking openly into the masked grey eyes. “Yes, you do. But I’ll be right here the whole time.”

“Fine. Let’s get this over with then,” Draco gestured at the door and Harry began leading the way, their hands still clasped together. “Wait. How many Weasley’s are there?”

Harry paused only momentarily in his stride downstairs. “Er. Charlie and Percy aren’t here so…that makes seven including Ron.”

“Seven?!” Draco spat incredulously. “Seven bloody Weasley’s. You’re leading me to my death, Hary.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “You’re such a drama queen.”

By now they were just outside the drawing room which was at full capacity, doors closed and waiting for their entrance. Draco came to a dead stop, relinquishing his hand as if burnt. “What did you just call me?” he asked dangerously low.

“Come on I was just teasing.” Harry tried to take his hand back but it was slapped away.

“You called me a queen, Potter,” he hissed.

Harry placed his hands on either of Draco’s tense shoulders. “Sorry. I guess I meant to say drama King. There, is that better?”

Draco opened his mouth to retor but quickly shut it as the door opened before them. Hermione looked through and frowned. “Are you two coming or what?” She asked over a muddle of voices conversing loudly behind her. Harry nodded, gave a now upset Draco another small, confident smile before turning and stepping into the room.

All occupants of the room fell into an immediate hush. “Er, hello again,” Harry stammered. “Everybody, Draco Malfoy. Draco, this is well, uhm, everyone,” Harry gestured at the room.

Upon mention of the name and Draco’s stride in to stand tall beside Harry, not a soul breathed. After a few of the longest moments Draco finally spoke. “You weren’t pulling a kneazle over on me when you said there were seven Weasley’s.”

Harry laughed dryly but Bill was quick to snap. “Yeah, that means seven to one. Do the math, Malfoy!” He growled. Molly sent him a disapproving glance.

“Harry dear, are you certain Draco Malfoy here is the boy you were just telling us about?” She asked softly.

Harry narrowed his eyes and threw his arm about Draco’s waist, pulling him close. “Quite certain, actually.”

“But, he is Lucius Malfoy’s son,” Arthur stated dumbly.

Draco pursed his lips. “Very perceptive, Arthur,” he drawled stepping away from Harry and forward to address the room, half of which had their hands tightened around the lengths of their wands. “I am indeed Lucius’ son but that does not make me him. I am also a Slytherin and yes, made it my duty to make life for Harry and his friend’s a living hell while at school. A desperate situation, however, caused me to reconsider my past actions and current allegiances.”

“But you were there the night Severus killed Albus!” Remus called accusingly from beside a quiet, contemplative and pink-haired Nymphadora whose stomach was swollen from their growing and nearly due child.

Harry frowned at the remaining faithful Marauder. “He was and so was I. He didn’t do it. He would not kill him, despite what was being threatened of him.”

“Sev would not have done it either, if he had not made an Unbreakable Vow with my Mother,” Draco chimed in causing a ripple of whispers.

“What kind of desperate situation would cause Draco Malfoy to befriend Harry Potter?” Fred sneered.

George crossed his arms, “You sure hs isn’t cursing you, Harry? Tricking you? Poison, perhaps?”

Draco narrowed his eyes dangerously at the twins. “I would never hurt Harry. My desperate situation was that my parents were murdered and I was about to be, too, just after this happened,” Draco spat defensively and rolled up his left sleeve, revealing the generously scarred arm.

Molly audibly gasped and Malfoy or not she hurried over to him and grabbed his arm, inspecting it closely. “Who would do such a thing to a mere child?”

“Death Eaters,” Harry supplied, placing his hand comfortingly at the small of Draco’s back knowing Molly’s sudden invasion of space had him uneasy.

“My lovely Aunt specifically,” Draco muttered.

“Bella did that? And Cissy, she is gone?” Nymphadora asked quietly.

Draco looked up surprised, as if taking notice of her for the first time. “Nymphadora?”

The witch smiled sadly at her cousin. “Nobody calls my Mother that anymore.”

“She was a good person. If there was anything I knew about Cissy it was that she loved you, Draco, she would have done anything for you,” she said softly, Remus holding her protectively at her side.

Draco inhaled sharply, he couldn’t handle hearing that so soon after seeing her as he did what was no a week prior. “Unfortunately she had to die for my weaknesses.”

Harry quickly stood before Draco, a stern look on his face. “Not doing what a madman was forced you to do is not weakness, Draco, it was strength.”

Draco mutely nodded and turned back to observe the rest of the room. Other than the seven Weasley’s there was Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Alastor Moody, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Fleur Delacour close at Bill’s side. It seemed nobody else wished to make objections at the time, they were silently waiting for more of an explanation. For more answers to the questions they had badgered Harry with before like where had disappeared to for so long. They all settled in, asking for silence as the couple spoke in turn.

Draco started, explaining what had happened on the Astronomy Tower that eve in Sixth Year and the immediate consequences of which. Then Harry picked up where he left off, when he found a bloodied Draco Malfoy asking for his sanctuary which at first he was reluctant to give.

It took well over an hour before they were finished and nearly everybody was in awe at the heaviness of the new information, especially that regarding Voldemort. “How can you still be so sure this isn’t a trick, Harry?” A soft voice spoke up for the first time.

Harry found Ginny’s inquiring face in the crowd and when he met her eyes he saw the hurt in them and sighed. He recalled briefly their shared kiss in the Room of Requirement the year before and now here he was, standing beside and holding onto who used to be their mortal enemy. “We made a Wizard’s Oath, Gin. He couldn’t betray me if he wanted to,” Harry lifted up his arm, pointing out the others initials.

“Potter. A Wizard’s Oath is a powerful thing. What were the parameters?” Moody questioned.

Hermione stepped forward, speaking up for the first time. “The parameters are their business but I can vouch that they are strong enough to hold both of them responsible for one another.”

“They were strong enough that they couldn’t bloody be in a different room for more than a second before collapsing,” Ron added.

“Er, we did work our way around that bit eventually,” Harry mumbled.

Ginny’s eyes narrowed at her brother. It was obvious she was hurt, seeing the boy she had been waiting for for so many years with another man. “And you’re okay with this, Ron?”

Ron frowned at the pain in Ginny’s voice. He knew she would be hurt from Harry’s decision but now, as the months had passed by and his relationship with Hermione grew he was confident in his best friends relationship. “At first, no. You know me, I wanted to strangle the bastard the moment I saw him. Then when I found out he was really with Harry I can’t say the thought of throwing him out to the Ministry never crossed my mind,” Ron admitted. “But it’s been months, Gin. Malfoy has done a lot for Harry and they’re unfortunately good together. It’s bloody terrifying how much of a match they are,” he mumbled.

Both Harry and Hermione shone bright, grateful smiles at Ron. “Thank you, Weasley,” Draco nodded appreciatively at him.

“Listen,” Harry spoke up, “I don’t think mine and Draco’s relationship should really be the forefront of our thoughts at the moment. We have to concentrate on what we need to do going forward. Voldemort needs to be stopped and there are still certain steps that need to be taken to do so. That is why you are all here today, we need to figure out how we can successfully put an end to this.”

There were some muffled agreements and, with Draco at his side, Harry and the Order began to put to words the plans for the upcoming battle of Hogwarts.


	25. Saved

The screams were deafening, the battle cries and curses flew faster than anything Harry had ever witnessed. This was truly war. This was the end of it all. Every player left was doing their part. Everybody was scrambling for their last minute preparations. Harry had lost almost all thought and was reduced to just doing what he knew needed to be done. Consequences weren’t of significance. Not here, not now, not on this battlefield where too many were laid to rest already before the night had even ended.

Minutes seemed like hours. With the assistance of every loyal friend at Hogwarts, Ron, Hermione and Draco, they had completed their task. Voldemort was enraged. Harry had gone to him. Alone. His thought and pulse raced a mile a minute but nothing swayed him. It needed to be done.

Draco was at a loss, to be so far from Harry in such a mess of destruction and confusion. His worry was thickening by the moment it was almost all consuming. They were in the courtyard, where most others had conjoined. A curse came flying at him, Hermione quickly through up a shield. Draco snapped out of it and thanked her in one look as the he looked for the source of it. Blaise’s blank face stared at him. Draco saw the fear in his eyes. The worry. Draco’s wand lowered ever so slightly, freeing Blaise to go elsewhere, to pursue somebody else. He knew he had no choice in this fight but there wasn’t anything that could force Draco to duel him as they were meant to.

He fought. They fought together. Ron, Hermione and Draco, their backs to one another and never faltering to protect each other from a wayward curse. But neither three could restrain their thoughts from returning to their friend, everybody’s saviour.

Then the news came. The call. The end of the battle drums. The curses stopped. The wands lowered. “No,” Draco found himself saying aloud. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be possible. He looked down at his wrist, the initials HJP still burned into him as if he had taken the Oath yesterday. Surely it would have faded if the other party was deceased? It must. Right?

But then he came, in the arms of the giant, and Draco’s heart dropped. He couldn’t breathe. He clutched at his chest as a desperate anger boiled within him. “No!” He screamed louder. “HARRY!” Draco started off at a run towards him but was caught in the arms of an unsuspecting friend.

Ron pulled Draco to him using all his strength, he held him, wrapped him into his own grief. Hermione was there, at Ron’s shoulder, trembling. Draco didn’t even realize he had begun to cry but his face and shirt were already stained. Ron’s heart beat against his ear, he could feel the tremble of the redheads breathing, he heard the distant sobs and the voices but he truly couldn’t listen.

He would never hear him call his name again. Or chastise his attitude. His fingers would never run across his face or squeeze his own. Those dry lips would never grace his, he could never hold him at night. He would never get the chance to tell him how much he had grown to love him. Draco was spiralling.

Then there was an uproar. Movement. Shouts. Cheers.

Draco slowly brought his wet face upwards, the sight before him was a miracle. “Harry,” he breathed. He wanted to run towards him, embrace him, smother him and tell him how every fibre in his being loves him. Draco separated himself from Ron’s steady arms. The redhead was beaming.

There were words again. So much was happening. Everybody but Voldemort and Harry were still, watching with intent and awe. But Draco still couldn’t hear and all he could think was ‘ _My Harry_.’

Harry dropped his wand. The connected duel angled off as Voldemort looked at the boy with surprise. “I have something for you Tom!” Harry called, his voice was breathy and rang through-out the silent courtyard. Voldemort’s very fine lips twitched into a sneer. “Or should I say Michael?” The Dark Lord’s eyes went wide. There was some gasping from both sides, whispers erupting the silence around the two of them. Draco held his breath. This was it. Harry was going to do it and he was going to do it now. “That is your real name, isn’t it? Michael Mauvais?”

Disbelieving voices screamed and shouted now. Harry ignored them and concentrated on Voldemort’s sudden fury. “Who told you that, _boy_?! If you know my true name you know how difficult it is-“

“It was difficult, I assure you, but what you forget is that you are hurting people I love and care about and _nothing_ is too difficult to do when I need to put an end to that!” Harry shouted. He reached into his robes, he pulled out the lengthy Erumpent horn and lifted the Disillusionment Charm he had on it. It was bathed in the ingredients, Draco had done the ritual himself to perfection. It had to work and this was their only chance. If it failed, if Harry failed in its delivery or Draco in its preparation, Harry would have no other chance.

Voldemort was stammering, screaming nonsensically with rage. He hurried towards Harry, he disarmed him but Harry didn’t seem to care. Unforgivables flew at him with such sped but he blocked each one almost subconsciously. He was within reaching range now, driven by his hatred. Harry was swift. He didn’t waste any time on pleasantries. At the same time his hand thrust the Erumpent horn forward, another Gryffindor swung a long, heavy sword downward.

Harry felt it. He felt the life leave him, as if a part of himself was dying. He slipped from consciousness in a flurried shout as he crumbled. There was deafening silence before the cheering began but all Draco could think was ‘ _My Harry_.’ Arms ran out to hold him, surround him, but Harry merely ducked through the crowd making his way to the three people who meant the most to him.

And there he was. Draco. He looked worn but beautiful, standing with either Gryffindor’s on his side. His face was red from tears and Harry wanted to kiss the lasting remnants of them away. Harry was smiling softly, stiff. It was done. It was over. Not only was Voldemort dead but they both lived.

Harry smashed into Draco. He buried his head in the nape of his neck and only when he looked up to see a wet shirt did he realize he too was crying. Draco beamed down at him. “Draco,” Harry whispered, “I love you.”

Draco’s heart skipped a beat as he leaned down, capturing Harry’s lips in his own and kissing him hard enough to bruise. “My Harry,” he breathed once they parted.

At the battle of Hogwarts there were many lives that were lost. But, Harry could never be more grateful for Draco and he would never know how many more would have been lost without him. For now, they grieved the dead and rejoiced in one another.

* * *

 

_Two Years Later._

“I hate weddings.”

“How do you know, you’ve never even been to one,” Hermione chided Harry as she tied his tie for him.

Harry stuck out his tongue at her. “Why does it have to be so formal?”

“Because they’re Pureblood Slytherin’s, everything they do has to be formal,” Ron grumbled from his side of the room. He turned around, revealing his dress robes. They were much better than his last, now that he could afford the fitted robes, but he still felt like a fool in them. “I look bloody aweful.”

Hermione giggled. “No you don’t, darling, you look perfect.”

“I’m not wearing this rubbish on our wedding day,” Ron muttered.

The newly engaged Hermione glanced lovingly at her ring before glaring up at her betrothed, “We will see about that, Ronald Weasley.”

“She already sounds so much like your Mother,” Harry teased.

Ron groaned, “Don’t remind me, mate. I can just imagine what Malfoy is going to make you wear on your wedding day.”

Harry scoffed, “What wedding day?”

“You two aren’t getting married?” Hermione was the one who asked, a little taken aback.

Harry looked himself over in the mirror again, trying to flatten his constantly unruly hair and get used to the look of himself with contacts. “Blokes don’t normally get married, do they?”

“I don’t think that excuse is going to get you out of it. You know Malfoy is going to want one. A huge one. The biggest most lustrous wedding in history. I can see it now. Don’t make me your bloody best man, alright, mate?”

Harry laughed, “Alright. If it ever comes to it, ‘Mione can step in.”

There was a soft knock at the door and without an invitation Draco stepped in. He looked exhausted but at the same time gorgeous. His hair was longer now, pulled back into a neat ponytail, he had filled out and was less slender but still seemed to be growing taller every year. Harry smiled nervously at him, he had never looked so formal before. “You look fantastic, Draco.”

Draco smirked, pecking Harry on the lips, “I can’t say the same for the groom. Blaise can hardly walk straight. That’s why I came here, actually. I was wondering if I could borrow one of the groomsmen to come and use his wonderful calming charm on him before I murder him.”

“Now, we couldn’t have that,” Ron drawled, Hermione hit him softly in the arm.

Harry grinned at his best friend and followed Draco out into the corridor of the Zabini Manor, where the wedding was being held. “How is Pansy doin-“ Harry’s words were cut off as Draco threw him up against the wall, kissing him. His hands groped up the side of his hips to his shoulders and back down again. After a moment of heated kissing, Draco broke away smirking devilishly as his eyes trailed down to Harry’s budding excitement. “What was that for?”

“You look so fucking hot right now, Potter. I don’t think I’ll be able to make it through the whole ceremony,” Draco hissed. Harry shuddered beneath his words before pushing him away, distancing themselves.

“You have to, you’re the best man. Now c’mon, get me to the distressed groom.”

“I hope you’re more fun on our wedding day, Harry,” Draco pouted as they started off towards Blaise’s room.

Harry went still for a moment before Draco continued dragging him along. “Our wedding day? You want to get married?”

“Harry, after all these years did you ever think for one moment that I _wouldn’t_?”

Harry chuckled as they continued on their way to rescue the distraught Blaise.

Once the ceremony was over and the reception had begun, Harry found himself with one too many of Odgen’s Best Whiskey alongside Ron at the head table. Most of the guests were dancing around the floor, drinking merrily, laughing and taking their turns to congratulate the newlyweds. “Pansy Zabini, s’odd name,” Ron said.

“Mhm. I wonder if Draco is going to be Draco Potter or is he going to force me to be Harry Malfoy? Merlin Ron, I’m screwed,” Harry dropped his head onto the table, spilling some of his drink on the way down.

Ron chuckled and slapped his friend on the back, “You and me both, mate, you and me both. You still have some time to leave the bugger and make it look unrelated,” he suggested.

“You could too, you know,” Harry mumbled.

“I would never!” Ron looked momentarily appalled before taking another large gulp of his drink.

“I guess we’re both screwed then, mate.”

“Screwed? What about?” Draco asked as he slid back into his seat beside Harry. Hermione was suddenly looming over the table as well but before Ron. Draco’s arm wrapped about Harry’s shoulders, pulling him close. “You know, it does not actually matter. Granger here was telling me she didn’t like the arrangement Pans picked out for the bridesmaids. I think they are nearly perfect. I mean, for our wedding, I would pick something similar but a lot less gold and a little more purple.”

“I just don’t like lilies. Roses. Yes, I would like roses but yellow ones, not red. Could we do that, Ron?” Hermione asked hopefully.

Ron and Harry exchanged mirrored horrified looks. “Yup, we’re screwed,” Ron conceded.

But even as Harry was stuck listening to arguments regarding floral arrangements, dress robes, colours, place settings and much more of the same thing he didn’t quite understand, he couldn’t help but feel happy. He was surrounded by his friends. And when Draco turned to him and gave him those private smiles reserved just for him, he couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest man alive. Looking back on the day Draco had come to him asking for sanctuary, Harry was certain that they had come to save each other.


End file.
